by Ron Smoak
Ben walked up, catching the tail end of Dane’s last sentence. “Well, that would give those bastards something to chew on while Hugo got out,” he said, trying to reassure Dane. “Hell, I bet with all of that going on Hugo will be able to just waltz out of there.” Dane smiled, yet was worried for his friend’s safety.
Ben continued, “Well, at least we are relatively safe here. We can wait a while until Hugo comes in. We might as well relax. Anyone want some food?” Ben walked over to one of the larger backpacks and pulled out some kind of jerky. “Dana? Randall?”
“Actually, I could eat a horse,” said Dana, standing.
“Me too,” said Randall. The two slowly half walked, half limped over to the backpack.
“Well, I don’t have a horse but I do have something that I think will tide you over until we can get you a hot meal.” Ben handed out two large flattened pieces of jerky that looked like old dirty, burnt leather. He didn’t know what kind of meat it was, but it definitely was not beef.
“Beef jerky, I love this stuff,” said Randall, tearing gingerly into one end of his slab. Dana was a bit more particular, taking a few seconds to look at what she was getting ready to eat. Both had to contend with a few lost teeth.
As Randall pulled off a stringy piece and began to chew, his eyes widened. He looked perplexed as he tried to figure out what he was eating.
“Oh, by the way, that’s not beef jerky, Randall,” Ben said grinning. Dana looked up from her perusal of the snack and looked at Randall. He was trying to swallow his piece, clearly struggling with the taste. Finally it went down.
“Ben, what are we eating?” asked Dana.
“Yeah, Ben, what did I eat?” asked Randall. Ben was grinning ear to ear. Tim was snickering.
“That’s not good when you two are laughing,” smiled Dana.
“Oh, it’s not bad,” said Ben. “It’s just that it is not beef. Tecal and his men made it. I think it might be better if you don’t know what it is. Even Tecal did not tell me what it was. If I had to guess, I would say some sort of water oxen or jungle deer.” Tecal was sitting over by the backpack happily chewing on a piece of the jerky.
“It good to eat,” Tecal explained. “It made from good meat.”
Dane had to laugh. It was the first time they all laughed together and it felt great. Dana finally took a bite and chewed it.
“Well, other than being much gamier than beef, it’s not too bad. In fact, after what we have been through it’s the best I’ve ever tasted.”
Suddenly a large explosion was heard in the distance, then another. This time they felt the ground shudder. The group all went silent. Each was worried about Hugo.
“Those were much larger explosions than those earlier,” said Ben. “You guys really touched off a mess.” Dane was looking into the distance toward the continuing explosions. His furrowed brow showed his concern.
“No, this is something else,” Dane said quietly. “What we did couldn’t have done that much damage. It sounds like Hugo may have added to their troubles.” Now a huge cloud of black smoke was rising above the jungle. “It looks like the complex is under attack.” Dane wondered if his friend may have gone too far in an effort to save them all. Hugo was not one to fail in any of his responsibilities. He would not hesitate to sacrifice his own life for the group if needed. For the first time Dane felt really scared.
Ben looked out in the distance toward the complex. He too saw the dark column of smoke rising. “Wow, that’s a helluva fire to see this far away. I wonder what happened.”
“I don’t know, but I hope Hugo gets back pretty soon. That looks like his work but I certainly hope he got out,” said Dane. He stepped over beside Dana and Randall. “Well, let’s get as comfortable as we can and wait on the ol’ boy.” His tone was intentionally upbeat, but his thoughts were not. Come on, Hugo… he thought to himself.
Dane began to gather his gear. Internally he was fighting the urge to go find Hugo. At the same time he didn’t want to keep Dana and Randall in the jungle longer than he had to. They both needed medical attention. After a few minutes he made his decision.
“I’m going back in to get Hugo.”
“Wait a minute, Dane,” said Ben, stepping in beside him. “We are all worried. But Hugo can take care of himself. We cannot afford to lose you or any other person in this group. Hugo will come in. I know he will.” Dane looked Ben directly in the eye.
“Ben, that man is my brother. Maybe not in the strictest sense but a brother no less. He has risked his life for me many times. I have to help him if I can.”
“I understand, Dane. I’m not saying we give up on him. But let’s give him some time to get out. He definitely has a great diversion with all that is going on over there. Let’s wait a few more minutes.”
Tecal heard the conversation and decided to take matters into his own hands. He sent out a man to scout ahead back toward the base camp. Then he sent another man back toward the Fortress to warn of any Germans who may have made it out this far. Tecal walked over to Ben and Dane.
“I send out men to see what is happening. You wait. My men find Mr. Hugo.” Tecal smiled widely.
“That little guy is worth his weight in gold,” said Ben looking at Dane. “Come on, let’s wait over here. Everything will be all right.”
Everyone could breathe easier knowing those two were out there watching out for them. The group ate and settled down for a rest. After all, they faced a very long trek back to base camp. Within minutes Dana and Randall were sound asleep under a large fern.
Ben and Tim lay on the opposite side of the small clearing, both snoring. Dane was resting but wide awake. His guard nevertheless up, he wanted to be reasonably ready if need be. He and Hugo had gotten Dana and Randall out of the Fortress alive. He didn’t want to lose them to a fleeing German with a score to settle.
What seemed like many hours was actually only two. All but Dane and Tecal were still asleep when one of Tecal’s men hustled back to the clearing. Dane sat up.
“Big truck coming,” said the small native. “Big truck!” Dane thought that was what he heard from the native but what in God’s name would a truck be doing here in the jungle? Then it hit him; the Germans! They escaped and were fleeing the Fortress. Dane jumped up.
“Everybody up! We have company coming,” shouted Dane. Ben and Tim popped up like they were shot out of a gun. Dana and Randall were a bit slower getting up. Dane turned to them. “Hit the deck, you two. We are not out of this yet.”
“What’s up? “Ben asked.
“One of Tecal’s men says there is a big truck coming our way.”
“A truck?” gasped Tim. “How the hell can a truck be out here?”
“My thoughts exactly,” said Dane, checking his weapon. “It has to be from the Fortress and you know what that means. Some pretty pissed off Germans are headed our way.”
“Oh, boy, here we go again,” moaned Ben. “I am getting too old for all of this.”
Dane smiled. “Come on, old man. Let’s kick some ass.” The three men dispersed into the edge of the jungle, rechecked their weapons and ammo and waited for the Germans. It was about two minutes later they heard the distinctive growling sound of a large truck.
“Here they come,” said Dane, giving a thumbs-up to both Tim and Ben. The roaring growl got louder and louder until they could see the jungle bush being pushed back and aside as a huge six-by-six truck rolled forward. The men readied their weapons. Dane had moved Dana and Randall out of the clearing behind everyone. Dane could retreat, grab the two and slip off into the jungle if needed. The growling sound was now overwhelming. The truck burst through the edge of the clearing and stopped. Everyone aimed their weapons at the truck and readied themselves.
“Honey, I’m home!” The cry came from inside the truck as the motor revved down and turned off. Out popped Hugo onto the running board. Dane was momentarily stunned.
“I should have known,” grinned Dane as he rushed over to shake Hugo’s hand. “
Damned glad to see ya!”
“Not half as much as I to see you guys,” answered Hugo with a wide smile. “It’s kinda hard to drive this bucket of bolts through the jungle chased by Germans and find a handful of folks that are hiding from you.”
“Well, I guess so,” said Ben, coming around the front of the truck with Dana and Randall. “Not many highways out in these parts of the jungle.” They all laughed together. They were one happy family again.
“Speaking of Germans,” asked Dane, “are any following you?”
“Not that I know of. I stopped back a ways and listened and heard nothing but explosions. By the way, the last I saw of the Fortress, it was the Amazon’s first volcano.” They all stood there amazed at Hugo.
“Volcano?” blurted Tim. “What do you mean a volcano?”
Hugo grinned. “I’ll tell you about it on the way back. Right now I simply want to say hi to Dana and Randall and relish the moment.”
Dana was the first to notice Hugo’s bandage. “You are hurt,” she said, stepping over to give him a hand.
“I took a bit of shrapnel but it’s only a flesh wound. I’ll be okay.”
“No. We have to take care of that now. We don’t want it to get infected out here.” Dana turned to get the medical kit.
“But I do have a bit of a surprise for all of you,” added Hugo.
“Besides a ride home?” asked Tim.
“Wait ‘til you see this,” said Hugo, leading the group to the rear of the truck. He unlatched and dropped the tailgate and pulled back the black tarp. “Well, what do you think?” He was smiling ear to ear.
Every eye in the group looked into the bed of the truck. They were stunned. Their mouths hung open as if they saw Adolph Hitler himself emerge. There in the back of the truck were crate upon crate with German markings. One crate was open and its contents spilled on the truck bed. Gold bars, hundreds of them.
“Well?” asked Hugo again, almost laughing out loud. “Cat gotcha tongue?”
“Holy Mother of God!” cried Dana.
“My God!” cried Dane.
Ben and Tim stood there speechless. “We are the proud owners of a butt-load of gold bullion,” explained Hugo.
Dane was the first to ask what everyone wanted to know but couldn’t get the question out. “Hugo, how did you get this? There must be millions here.”
Hugo smiled broadly, “At today’s prices, maybe billions. Those Germans had it all packed and ready for me when I left.” Hugo looked at Dane. “When we split up, I found my way down to the power station where I set charges on their power equipment. Then I made my way back up to the hangar level where you guys had left me a mess.” Dane smiled and nodded his head. “Anyway, I was able to traverse the burning hangar level. That’s where I got this,” he said, tapping his wounded leg. “I kept moving and found the motor pool. I tried to take one of the jeeps there but they were all blocked in.
“All that was left in the clear was this truck. I started the old girl up and tried my best to get her up to speed and get back to you. Even though I was following a pretty good trail, the damned truck would hardly move. I jacked it into low-range six-wheeled drive and she trudged on down the trail. So here I was blasting down this jungle trail running from Germans, a volcano behind me, God knows what in front of me and going only about five miles an hour. Talk about frustration! I could run faster than this, except for my leg.
“I was on the road for a good twenty minutes before I decided to stop to see what was going on. That’s when I found the truck was filled with gold bullion ready to transfer to the United States.”
“So the truck was already loaded?” asked Dane.
“Yep. But I didn’t know until I stopped,” answered Hugo. “Imagine what a surprise I got!”
“Holy cow,” Ben grinned. “What a story.”
“I’ll say,” added Randall.
“Well, let’s not wait around until the Germans track us down. Let’s get moving.”
“You don’t have to say it twice,” said Dane as Dana and Randall jumped into the rear of the truck. Ben and Tim joined them. Dane climbed into the cab with Hugo. Tecal sent his man ahead on foot to find the earlier scout and lead the way back home.
Hugo started the truck. “Home, James,” shouted Dane.
“Yes, sir, Boss.” The truck lurched forward down the jungle path toward home.
CHAPTER SEVENTY
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Downtown Miami, Florida; 10:30 a.m.
The telephone rang in the offices of International Investments. Albert Jackson was in his office packing his personal papers. His transfer was to take effect today. Within seconds a stark-faced Dieter Blocher burst into his office out of breath.
“Mein Gott! Der Führer ist tot!” he cried. Jackson leaped to his feet.
“What?” he exclaimed.
“The Führer is dead and Fortress Alpha has been destroyed. Everyone was killed except for a few that were captured. I just heard from Danzler in Rio. We are finished!” Blocher was uncharacteristically upset.
Jackson wiped his face with his hand. Blocher was right. They were finished unless he could activate the emergency plan. “Dieter, send a message to Danzler. Tell him we are opening emergency Protocol A immediately. We will evacuate within the hour.”
“Yes, sir,” said Dieter, still trying to calm down.
Jackson’s mind was racing. What happened? How could this happen? A myriad of questions swirled through his head. But he couldn’t afford to spend time on such frivolous antics now. He must save what he could of the operation and above all save himself.
“Gather the transaction documents and place them in the armored travel case. Take the rest of the files to the basement and burn them in the incinerator. Nothing must be left for anyone to find out what we were doing.”
“Yes, sir,” answered Blocher, now actively trying to calm himself. He raced off to do his duty. Jackson got up and went to the wall safe behind the original Norman Rockwell painting on his office wall. He opened the safe and removed twenty packets of one hundred dollar bills and a large envelope containing more than four hundred million dollars of gold stocks. He placed the money and stocks in his briefcase and closed the safe. Before he closed his case, he placed two packets of money in his inside coat pocket. He needed some ready cash.
Jackson closed his briefcase and sat back down. He pulled a key from his pocket. He stopped for a second and stared ahead. He never thought he would have to use this key. He stood, strode out of his office and down to the basement. Blocher was burning documents in the incinerator room. Jackson walked past the room and placed his key in a vault-like steel door at the end of the hall.
“Dieter, I will be in the armament room,” he yelled back down the hall.
“Yes, sir,” came the reply from Blocher.
Jackson opened the heavy door. The light turned on automatically. It was a small vault built directly into the foundation of the building. Inside it housed enough arms and ammunition to service a small army. There were assault rifles, handguns and a variety of explosives and heavy machine guns. Jackson perused the gun cabinets for a second and then opened the locker containing handguns. He turned and picked up a leather satchel on the floor and placed it on the table in the middle of the room. He carefully selected four 9mm Glock handguns from the locker and placed them in the bag. Then he placed six boxes of 9mm ammunition in the bag. After thinking for a second, he turned to another cabinet and removed five four-by-four blocks of C-4 explosives in the satchel as well. Dieter walked into the room.
“Have you finished burning the records?” asked Jackson.
“Yes, sir, and the case has been packed as well. We are ready.”
Jackson reached back into the handgun cabinet and handed Blocher another Glock and a silencer. “Put the silencer on. We may have to use that and I do not want to cause a stir.” Jackson reached back into the cabinet and placed a Walther PPK and silencer into his pocket.
“Our emer
gency protocol is to leave Miami and go to Cancun and on to Havana. There we will meet others and go into hiding,” explained Jackson. Dieter was listening intently.
“Will we be able to contact our families?” asked Blocher. “My mother is ill and will be very worried about me if she cannot hear from me.”
“I’m sorry, Dieter. We cannot afford such contact now. Maybe within a few weeks once we settle down in Cuba or someplace else. The people we meet in Cuba will have the final plan of where we will go.”
Blocher looked dejected but he understood. “Yes, sir, I understand completely. You can count on my silence.”
“Of course,” said Jackson in a rare showing of concern for the young man’s situation. “Get your things together. We are leaving on the jet as fast as we can get to the airport. I will call the hangar and have the jet ready when we get there. Call Hickmann and get the limo here now.”
Within twenty-five minutes Albert Jackson and Dieter Blocher were on their private jet at 15,000 feet leaving Miami airspace headed to Cancun, Mexico.
EPILOGUE
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Miami Beach, Florida; 10:00 a.m.
The next few weeks were a bit hectic for them all. After arranging for private planes to take the gold back to the U.S., the Brazilian government stepped in to stop them. Once the U.S. government was informed, they too got involved. Both sides wanted the gold. Dane and Hugo steadfastly refused. After a series of negotiations and several not so veiled threats regarding both governments’ knowledge of a Nazi stronghold in the jungle, the governments relented. It seemed that neither government relished the thought of the entire matter being spread across the news headlines around the world. Frankly, the whole story made the governments look like fools.
While everyone seemed upset at their actions officially, unofficially Dane and his group of men were profoundly thanked by the governments of both the United States and Brazil. If the Germans had succeeded in their plot to flood the market with gold and throw the financial world into chaos, every country in the world would have suffered greatly. Part of the thanks was the group could keep the gold they “found” and neither government would lay claim nor assess any taxes. So it all went straight into the bank.