Alpha Threat

by Ron Smoak

  The complex was huge. It had taken almost forty years to fully construct. Loosely based on the Nazi structures built in Germany, everything had been brought into the jungle, all building supplies as well as workers. That was no easy task without leaving a huge trail right to the complex. So work was done slowly and meticulously to ensure secrecy. The result was a near state-of-the-art scientific complex spanning several acres but wholly underground, hidden from all view.

  The deepest basements were ten stories below the level of the jungle floor. Housing over 350 carefully selected and trained personnel, the present personnel included the children and grandchildren of the original group brought over from Germany before war’s end. They were augmented by highly trained, dedicated Germans handpicked for their knowledge and skills. Each was trained explicitly in their crafts, from cooks to nuclear scientists. They only knew this place, this life. Only a very few trusted personnel ever left the fortress and then only for very specific reasons. They usually returned within days. All of the inhabitants were fanatically dedicated to the rise of the Fourth Reich, a new Germany deep within Brazil’s jungles.

  The most important of the Nazi’s secrets were housed here. Brought over from the Third Reich, these confidences were the engine that kept this society going and growing. The initial caches of gold were brought over from Europe in 1945. That cache had financed their work until now. Now that treasure was added to the gold being produced now. Produced, not mined. Gold was produced by a process that would provide this society with inexhaustible power.

  Randall sat up hearing a noise outside of his cell. He heard another door slam and voices.

  “Hey, let me out!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. “Get me the hell out of here!”

  There was no reply, just silence. After about thirty seconds, the door lock clicked and it flew open. A large guard burst in. Randall tried to stand but the guard slammed him against the back wall of the cell. Randall saw stars; his head had smacked the stone hard. As he tried to regain his wits and stand again, a large fist slammed into his face, then another. He fell back on the floor. A second guard lifted him up while the other guard grabbed Randall’s arms and pulled them back. Randall looked up as a large hard rubber bludgeon smashed into his face. Blood spattered the near wall.

  Before he could recover another blow came and then another. He was thrown to the floor again. He never saw the boot that kicked him hard in the side, breaking two of his ribs. Nor did he see the boot that slammed him between the legs, right in the balls. Randall’s world exploded in excruciating pain as his vision flashed to a blinding white and then faded to black. He was out cold. But that did not stop the guards. For five more minutes they beat Randall’s face and body. Punch after punch after punch until his face was a bloody mess. But thank God, he did not feel it. The two guards threw him in the corner and left him. They never said a word. Maas watched from the cell entrance.

  “Very good,” he said to the guards, smiling as he handed them a towel to clean Randall’s blood from their hands and face. “That should keep him quiet for a while.”

  Within minutes there was a visit to Manolo’s cell. The same two guards walked into the cell and pulled him up to a standing position. Manolo stood there scared to death.

  Before he could say anything one of the guards swung a two-foot long iron bar, smashing it into Manolo’s left knee. The force of the blow crushed Manolo’s knee and he screamed in pain as he hit the floor.

  Manolo’s pain was excruciating. The guard stepped closer and swung the iron bar again. This time it caught Manolo on his left arm, halfway between the elbow and shoulder. The crack was sickening as the bar broke his arm nearly in two. His lower arm was now completely limp, a jagged portion of bone sticking out of a four-inch gash in his arm. Manolo passed out, the pain too severe to endure. As with Randall, the guards did not stop. As one guard held Manolo up the other guard began beating him mercilessly. There were numerous blows to the stomach and ribs and many blows to the face. An unconscious Manolo did not feel the punishment but would definitely feel it later. The two guards threw Manolo into the corner of the room against the stone wall and walked out of the cell leaving him broken on the floor. Again Maas stood at the door smiling.

  Both men had been brutally beaten. Both were left to endure their pain alone. Now it was Dana’s turn. There was to be no letup for a woman.

  Maas and his two henchmen walked down the corridor and turned the corner. They went down one level and through a heavy steel door. They arrived outside of Dana’s cell. Maas was very, very good at what he did. He enjoyed inflicting pain. He especially enjoyed inflicting pain on women. A complete sadist and sexual deviate, Maas was well suited for the position of captain of the guards. The job required blind adherence to orders no matter what the consequence. That was easy for him; the worse the order, the better. His orders from Kaete Grimme were to inflict pain. He relished such an order.

  The guards opened Dana’s cell. She stood up and stepped forward.

  “Who are you and why are you holding us here?” asked Dana, stepping forward, expecting some semblance of decorum from her captors. She hoped and prayed Randall and Manolo were not dead already. There was no response. One guard stepped into the cell and grabbed Dana by the shoulders and turned her so she faced the far wall. She tried to struggle but the guard was too big, too strong.

  “Leave me alone!” she screamed. “Let me go!”

  The second guard stepped around and slapped Dana hard across the face. She gasped at the strike and stars filled her eyes. The strike from his huge hand left a bright red handprint across her face. Before she could recover, the next blow landed; a massive punch to her stomach. The punch knocked the breath out of her and her knees buckled. Her eyes bulged. Tears leapt from her eyes. She could not breathe. The first guard grabbed her by the back of her shirt collar with one hand and by her short hair with the other, holding her face out for punishment. Her arms hung limply at her side as she tried desperately to catch her breath.

  What followed was pathetic even for these men. Held by the guard’s iron grip, the second guard began beating Dana with his fists. Each blow smashed into her face, breaking her nose, bloodying her face and swelling her eyes. Somewhere during the continuing beating, she too passed out. After receiving more than a dozen blows, the guards threw her limp body down to the floor and stomped and kicked her torso. Then they simply walked out of the cell. She was left alone again. Maas closed the cell door laughing quietly. The bitch had better be glad I didn’t use a fan belt on her!

  Maas ordered his henchmen to monitor the three but not contact any of them. He left his lair deep within the fortress and returned to Grimme’s office.

  “All three captives have been severely beaten. Pain is their companion now,” he said with a sick grin.

  “Very good,” she hissed as she smiled broadly. A sadist in her own right, everything was going according to her plan. She would leave them alone for a few more days to let their pain and suffering weaken their resistance. Then she would find out what she wanted to know. Above all their secret location and plans must be guarded at all cost.

  “I trust you beat them severely as I ordered?” She asked.

  “Yes. My guards have bloodied them but they are in no real danger. All of them were beaten as you ordered,” Maas said proudly. “They will be ready for questioning in a few days.”

  “Very well. Watch them closely,” she ordered as she slowly walked around from behind her desk. “I want them to suffer but not die. My father always used this most effective way of questioning people. His first step was to beat them into submission without saying a word. The beating shows that they are not safe nor are they in control of their own fate. That sets the stage for the second step. We will use one of the captives as an example while the remaining captives are forced to watch, but again no questions yet. Finally, the questioning begins and everyone talks or they die one at a time in front of each other. The killing is gruesome and brutal.
Before it is all over, everyone talks... or dies.”

  “I understand, Mein Führer,” said Maas smiling. “I look forward to serving you. As you know, inflicting pain is my passion.”

  Grimme smiled and let out a laugh. “Ah, yes. I knew I selected the man I needed for my work,” smirked Grimme, relishing the thought of what was to come.

  “Tomorrow night at midnight,” she said. “That’s when we will begin step two. Make certain everything is ready. I will accompany you for the next session,” she said, changing her thoughts to her more pressing duties. “I have much work to do before then.”

  “Yes, Mein Führer,” snapped Maas as he nodded his head in agreement and turned and walked out of her office. He was pleased.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Wednesday, July 6, 2011

  Inside Fortress Alpha Deep in the Amazon; 10:00 a.m.

  Kaete Grimme looked around her office. Even though it was eight levels below the Amazon jungle, no one would have known. The room was beautifully appointed. The fine Brazilian wood paneling gave the room warmth of home. A working fireplace adorned the far wall. The furniture was French and richly adorned with beautifully elegant fabrics. She was literally standing within a French chateau.

  Her library adjoined the office. It too was as exquisite as those in the finest castles of Europe. At full two stories, the library held thousands of books, art and rare papers brought from Europe after the Second World War. Most were gleaned from the European museums, castles and homes by the Germans as they marched across Poland, Italy, France, Belgium and the Netherlands.

  Many priceless art treasures were lost to the Allies before they could be brought for safekeeping in Brazil. Even so, many of the volumes in the library were priceless first editions. The artwork included many works by the masters long thought to be lost during the war. They were not lost. They were very well kept in Brazil; stolen from museums and various private collections in countries that fell to the German onslaught. The collection of art alone made this complex one of the finest unknown museums of art in the world.

  The plan was for Hitler himself to be whisked away from Berlin and brought to Fortress Alpha but his stubbornness in leaving Berlin before the Russian army cut off his exit sealed his fate.

  This fortress and industrial complex was to be Hitler’s new beginning. Building had begun in 1942 as a future stronghold for the new German front in South America. The German High Command wanted to create a utopia in Brazil. It would be used as a jumping-off point to take over South America and then march across Central America into Mexico and on to the United States. Built in a remote area for secrecy, the facility quickly became Germany’s safe outpost for the many spoils of war.

  Kaete recalled pictures of the Biltmore House in Asheville, North Carolina back in the United States. As a young woman her father had brought in many books for her to study when she was being personally tutored by him or one of his scientists. She loved the French chateau built in the North Carolina Mountains by George Vanderbilt. Although she never visited the exquisite home, she visited through her studies. She could recite its history and walk through the house and its gardens in her mind. Privately she yearned for such a palace but knew it was not possible. But her position here was extremely important. It was the linchpin for the future of the dreams of her grandfather and father as well as all good Germans throughout the world. If she wanted to maintain her father and grandfather’s quarters, so be it.

  She dealt with threats to this dream ruthlessly and completely. Over the years, very few jungle treks stumbled upon this isolated fortress. All were swiftly and completely eradicated with no trace remaining. The uninvited visit by the Finleys was merely another group to be “handled”. But first she needed to know what they were there for and what, if anything, they knew of their location. The existence of the group’s sophisticated GPS was the difference, the reason they were still alive. It pinpointed their location. One thing she had learned from her father and grandfather was that the secrecy of this complex was paramount. It must not be compromised in any way. That included reaching out anywhere in the world to protect their interests. She thought of Klaus Nader back in Miami and his fate. His death was due to his asking too many questions regarding the gold he brokered through Mr. Jackson and his group. Nader became a threat, ever so slight but still a threat. A threat of any kind or size was taken very seriously and eliminated quickly; thus Mr. Nader’s unfortunate demise.

  Kaete Grimme ruled this complex. She also ruled the entire program spread throughout the world, Miami, Hong Kong, Brussels and Moscow. Gold was their tender. Gold was man’s weakness. Gold was Kaete Grimme’s power. Kaete relished her power and loved to wield it when she could. She also loved to use part of her treasures to bring comforts here to Brazil that she would have normally had in Europe. Thus her tastes were exquisite and expensive.

  While she was unable to travel throughout the world as she would have liked, when she did travel she traveled well. Several times a year she left the arms of her life in Brazil to visit her minions who dealt gold for her Reich building goals. Her grandfather and father built a massive but specifically targeted gold business to broker their holdings across the world. She inherited that business and was determined to ensure its growth.

  A new Germany was her goal. When she thought of what the world did to her Fatherland, she bristled. The Americans, British and Soviets in particular pounded the Third Reich into the ground. They humiliated the proud German people and made their lives hard. Only within the past few decades had Germany begun to flourish again.

  Under her leadership, Germany is poised to regain its rightful status and rule the world. She and her group would not make the same mistakes as Hitler. Rather than taking the world by force, their plan is to regain power by taking over the financial world and easing into world dominance.

  How can they do this? They possess the ultimate answer…gold. Gold ruled the world for centuries. It was the cause of so much death and pestilence second only to religion. Following this historical lead, these neo-Germans planned to first flood the financial markets of the world with gold to drive the price down. The world’s banks will careen out of control with the loss of capital. Once the gold price is depressed, the Germans will slowly but surely buy back the low cost gold. Germany’s banks will regain power by taking over the damaged financial institutions. This will smash the gold markets and drive the world’s economy to ruin. The key is gold. The key is an unlimited supply of gold. And they had gold!

  Throughout World War II, perhaps the most important secret of the Germans was their work in alchemy, not nuclear power. Long tried since the middle ages, wizards and kings had dreamed of turning lead and other elements into gold. Some had succeeded but the cost was enormous and thus prohibitive. The Nazi scientists had discovered an easy and inexpensive way to produce gold. Too late to influence the Second World War, they protected these vital secrets from falling into the hands of the Allies by secretly moving them out along with all of the scientists involved to this Brazilian complex late in the war.

  Many thousands had died protecting this secret. But the secret had been saved, so far…

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Thursday, July 7, 2011

  Finley Base Camp, Cotriguacu, Brazil; 8:00 a.m.

  Ben Jamison was worried. It was three days since the last short radio message from Randall Finley. His last report said they saw men dressed in black with guns. Ben checked with the local authorities and they knew of no army activity in that general area. Ben believed the men dressed in black were trouble. He reported the missing Finley party to the local police. While mildly concerned the authorities informed Ben there was little they could do until they could prove the Finleys were in real danger. Of course, Ben could not so the authorities took a wait-and-see attitude. Ben couldn’t afford that kind of a wait. He discussed the situation with his sister, Lee Watson.

  Lee had joined Ben nearly a year ago after she had lost her husband, Dan
iel, of twenty years and their two children, Amy, 17, and Leigh, 14, in an airline crash returning from Austin, Texas. The trio had traveled to Austin to visit her husband’s brother and to tour the University of Texas. Amy had wanted to attend UT.

  The loss of her entire immediate family at one time cast her into a deep depression for months until she rediscovered one of her childhood loves, archeology and anthropology. Lee decided to take a few college courses at the University of South Carolina near her home in Lexington, South Carolina. She poured herself into her studies. With her previous psychology degree, she earned an additional degree in anthropology in three years.

  Her brother Ben handled base camp operations for several Princeton anthropology expeditions in Brazil. She asked Ben for a job after she graduated since she had no ties to her home in South Carolina. Ben jumped at the chance to have his sister along. She was one helluva hard worker. He could definitely use her skills. Now a few weeks shy of a full year later, Lee remade her life here in the Amazon. She was thrilled with this new adventure.

  “I’m concerned about this story about men dressed in black, Lee,” Ben said stepping out of the door and onto the wide front porch. “It does not make sense. We’ve heard of guerillas and, of course, native tribes in the area where the Finleys disappeared but I can’t say I’ve ever heard of men dressed in black.”