by P. W. Child
They coughed. One gagged and bent over to the side to throw up, but only delivered bile. Exclamations of disbelief and curses escaped them as they stumbled deeper into the dark passage to locate the Allied soldier they were sent to bring back to Sturmbannführer Adolf Diekmann. The men covered their mouths and noses with their sleeves to prevent the vile odor of decomposition from overwhelming them. To make things worse there was an underlying smell of electrical wiring gone faulty, but there was no electricity down here.
“Hello!” the one greeted the prisoner found seated on the floor with an army blanket wrapped around his body and his legs pulled in. He made no sound, but he was alive and awake.
“You are wanted in the administration office,” the other informed Purdue.
‘Administration office?’ Purdue thought to himself. ‘So no torture chamber?’
“Mein Gott! You smell terrible!” the officer cried, turning his head away from the bundled up blanket around their captive. Purdue wanted to lash out and blame the neglect of the SS for his condition, but he knew it would be futile. If anything it would only provoke their cruelty even more. The rumbling in his stomach only reminded him of the systematic abuse they inflicted on him.
“Can I get some water, please?” Purdue asked, hardly able to speak from the sandpaper in his throat. They ignored him, rambling on between the two of them about something amusing he could not translate. “Can I get some water?” he repeated as the nearing exit blinded him. Still they paid Purdue no mind, dragging his weak and aching body off to the administration offices. Attempting to ascend the stairs with them, his legs failed him and he sank to his knees.
Maria came out of nowhere. She rushed to Purdue’s aid and shouted harsh reprimands at the two soldiers, sending one rushing for a glass of water.
“David, are you alright?” she asked, hooking her arms under his to support him on the steps while the other guard looked on.
“I’m so hungry, Maria. Please, anything to eat. Anything,” he panted weakly.
“I’ll get them to give you something to eat after your interrogation…”
“Please! Don’t let them torture me! I’m not a soldier,” he pleaded again. Purdue’s face was an inch from Maria’s beautiful countenance and his blue eyes were desperate enough to soften her heart. After his confession the day before she thought him a lunatic, but after much contemplation throughout the evening Maria had to reconsider. After all, she herself was a medium, channeling spirits and touching other worlds all the time. She had no right to dismiss him as a deluded maniac.
When she went to speak to him in the late hours of the night she saw a blinding white light exude from under the door of the holding cells. It was unlike anything she had ever seen, almost something she would have construed as unearthly. On seeing this phenomenon, knowing that only David Purdue was inside, she withdrew. Even with her insatiable curiosity as to what happened inside, she did not think it wise to enquire and draw attention from the guards. They were too meager of reason to understand.
“I am afraid I cannot promise that, David. But know this…” she looked at the attending soldier waiting for the other to return with water. He was distracted by a verbal altercation in one of the offices. “…I know there is something supernatural about you.”
“But…” he lit up, eager to elaborate, but she hushed him. She shook her head, frowning at her erroneous choice of words. “Not supernatural, but unusual.”
“I told you yesterday, Maria,” he started, but the other guard showed up with a tall glass of water. He crouched down and gave Purdue the water, but he clearly did not want to. It would have been great entertainment to watch the Allied intruder suffer, but they all knew that Maria was not to be crossed. Her potency was as great as her beauty. With Sigrun by her side, the two women headed the powerful Vril Society and had the ear of the Führer and Heinrich Himmler both.
“I need to know, David. I need to know everything,” she whispered in his ear as he greedily guzzled down the soothing water. She stood up and addressed the two soldiers with authority. “Make sure that he does not spend another night without food or water.”
With this she walked away and left Purdue to the mercy of the SS officers awaiting him in the large office at the end of the hall. Purdue had never experienced such terror in his life. Reading about the Second World War was like visiting the lion’s den at the zoo – looking in at the carnage from the security of high walls and steel barriers. Now he had been denied the safety of the fence and he was the main meal.
It was an atrocious time of raw and brutal evil, a time wherein nobody was ever safe. Madness prevailed and insanity corrupted those in power to the obliteration of the masses. Not even Germans were safe if they were judged by the personal vendetta of any of the commanders. Here he was, about to be interrogated by one of Hitler’s vicious beasts and his very fate was in the hands of a man who could end his life without lifting a finger.
The office was only that in name. Only three chairs surrounded a wooden desk with drawers in which the folders of prisoners, politics and enlisting documents were stored. But the rest of the room reeked of ammonia, floor polish and some awful whiff of formaldehyde mating with both to form nightmarish images in Purdue’s mind.
‘Don’t be hostile. Don’t speak out of turn, old boy,’ he instructed himself as he laid eyes on the Sturmbannführer seated at the desk. ‘In fact, remember who you are.’
“You are David Purdue?” the scrawny bald man with the laughing eyes asked.
“Yes, sir,” Purdue answered over parched discolored lips. ‘You are David fucking Purdue. You have more money than God and even more charisma. Command the room in the way only you know,’ his reason urged him.
He was numb with fear here in the presence of a Waffen SS Commander who had not a second thought for butchering women and children just to see their expressions. But he had to keep his wits about him. Purdue had to retain his positive nature, his cordial manner with which he could sway almost anyone to favor him.
Up until this very moment, through all his dangerous expeditions, his costly pursuits, reckless relic hunting and questionable associations, Purdue had never known doubt. Right up until this moment the affluent inventor and explorer had never tasted the choking venom of searing anguish. Never before had he abandoned his courage. There was always a way out, whether by the mercenary or by the wit. His money and his charm had always given him the upper hand, but now, in the snake pit of the SS, Purdue found himself a pauper.
Chapter 21
“David Purdue, I am Sturmbannführer Adolf Diekmann,” the officer said calmly. “I believe you have managed to break into the Reichkanzlei without being caught. Actually,” he said as he looked down at an open dossier before him, “it says here that you were not even seen coming in. What bothers me, Herr Purdue, is that you found your way through this Chancellery, past all the staff and officers and ended up in a bunker two floors below ground…” he locked his icy eyes with Purdue’s, “…that was locked from the outside.”
Purdue felt his heart thunder in his chest. The two soldiers who escorted him here flanked the commander and leered at him. He had no idea how to respond. If he spoke the truth they would kill him just for insulting their intelligence and if he lied he would come across as a spy, or worse, an assassin out to murder Adolf Hitler.
“I am waiting for an explanation. You say you are not an Allied soldier like your cell mate, so what were you doing down there? And how did you come in?” Diekmann insisted a bit more firmly. Purdue knew he had to say something.
“I am an inventor, sir,” Purdue employed his acting talent to appear convincingly humble and insignificant. “Do not let my nationality fool you. I am an avid follower of the late and brilliant Nikola Tesla, having assisted him on a few occasions with experiments of a secret and sensitive nature.”
“Nikola Tesla. Nikola…Tesla,” Diekmann sang, trying to place the familiar name.
“If I may, Sturmbannführer,” one o
f the soldiers interrupted respectfully, “he was an American of great renown, specializing in the field of electricity and mechanical engineering. Died last year.” The soldier lowered the volume of his voice and bent forward toward the level of Diekmann’s ear, “Nikola Tesla was a close friend of George Viereck, Sturmbannführer.”
That name, however, was very familiar to Adolf Diekmann.
“Ah! A friend of Viereck! And you worked with Tesla?” Diekmann asked, suddenly intrigued.
“Yes, sir,” Purdue nodded, keeping to his mild and kind modesty. But in truth Purdue had no idea who the hell George Viereck was. He only hoped his decent knowledge of Nikola Tesla could give him a bit of an edge over Diekmann. For once he was thankful for the presence of the spiteful and antagonistic guards. Had the soldier not spoken up Diekmann would never have known who Tesla was, rendering Purdue’s alibi worthless.
Diekmann was impressed. His gaunt cheeks fell into deep vertical wrinkles as he grinned with satisfaction. Indeed Viereck was a very prominent supporter of the Third Reich, having interviewed Hitler twice before and having delivered speeches in Berlin in honor of the Führer in his presence. Now he knew that Tesla was an ally, therefore any man who worked with him would be a friend of the Reich.
“So tell me, Herr Purdue, how did you get into the Reichkanzlei?” the officer insisted.
Purdue had to think on his feet. He acted coy and smiled. Speaking under his breath as if he knew the secrets of the universe, he replied, “Please, sir, do not tell anyone yet that we had succeeded. You are the only man I am telling in confidence.”
“Yes?” Diekmann pressed eagerly, too happy to be privy to this information.
“I conducted an experiment for being almost completely invisible,” Purdue confessed.
“Invisible? But how?” Diekmann asked.
“If you do not mind, sir…it is an experiment I wish to perfect so that I can surprise the Führer with a new method to mobilize the troops unseen over borders and into the parliaments of the enemy,” Purdue explained so realistically that he almost believed himself. Suddenly his old streaks emerged, his irresistible presentation that had always won him the support of even the most cynical of minds. “It could revolutionize the art of reconnaissance, intelligence….even assassination.”
“Fantastisch!” Diekmann smiled.
Dave Purdue had found his guile and nerve again. Somehow he thought up the perfect excuse for his arrival in the Reichkanzlei at the drop of a hat. And since the SS, especially Hitler and Himmler, found the mysteries of science and the occult so fascinating it was easy for them to believe that such a thing was indeed possible with the right research and experimentation.
Diekmann fell for it all, but Purdue had to steer this matter in just the right direction or else he would never find Helmut to procure Tesla’s notes before his time ran out. He needed to convince Diekmann that he, Purdue, knew the unknowable. If there was one thing Nina taught him about the secret societies it was that they were suckers for super humans and exceptional characters. And during his stint as Renatus of the Order of the Black Sun he learned a great deal from the Council of high members about the Nazi reverence for godhood or pursuit of it.
“If I may, sir…”
“Yes, Herr Purdue,” Diekmann turned his head slightly as if to listen closely.
Purdue knew this ruse could end tragically for him, and wondered if he should not abandon the idea of stirring things up. But what he was going to have to impart on the commander would be the only way to prove to the SS command that he was in possession of special abilities. In truth he hoped he knew enough about German history to accurately ‘predict’ future events.
“I have another confession.”
“And what is that?” Diekmann asked, looking a bit more suspicious this time.
“Um, I am a bit embarrassed to admit this, but I have this gift since birth…that I can…” he doubted the ridiculous claim he was about to make, being a fervent cynic of it.
“Yes, man! Speak,” Diekmann shouted, having lost his patience at waiting.
“I can predict the future.”
The two guards did everything in their power to keep a straight face while the commander stared at Purdue with a look of disappointment and a tinge of disdain.
“Take him away!” Diekmann shrieked. From both sides the guards seized Purdue and dragged him off. He could not believe that his apparent success had backfired so quickly. His escorts carelessly flung his sore body from one to the other, pushing him hard at the top of the stairs. Purdue staggered down the staircase, steered by the hard grips of the soldiers.
“You worked with Tesla? You can go invisible? Why don’t you do that right now, fool?” one shouted as they corralled him back towards the filthy cell he spent the night in.
“It doesn’t work like that, you imbecile,” Purdue scoffed with a smile. He insisted on keeping his defiance alive by condescending means. If he was going to die he would go out pestering them instead of cowering in a corner and weeping for mercy. For his insolence he received a jab to the face and a kick to the side of his knee which immobilized him completely. Purdue screamed in pain.
“We will be back to shoot you as soon as Sturmbannführer Diekmann gives the order, British swine,” he heard as he was thrown back into the darkness with his rotting roommate. Purdue cried out in agony as his knees hit the cement and his elbow and palms slid under his weight.
‘To hell with this shit!’ he thought. ‘I am attempting the travel back tonight! No more. Nothing is going to save me now that Dickwad smelled a rat!’
Soon after they left him in the desolate black pit of stench to count the hours to his fateful end Purdue prepared to communicate. He intended to make contact only to warn Lydia and Sam that the next connection from him would be his return, provided that it actually worked again. Wincing in excruciating pain from his fresh injuries he kneeled on the floor where he previously placed the BAT. His body throbbed with intense pain, more now from his burned skin, but he did not care. This was one adventure Purdue did not want to continue. He could hardly see anything in the dense oblivion around him and it gave Purdue the sensation of weightlessness, of being lost at sea, in space. Whirling inside his skull his brain assumed that it was afloat in half death - that his body was falling a thousand miles per hour while suspended in a cold womb of madness.
Confusion born from sensory deprivation and untreated pain wrapped itself around Purdue’s reason. Holding on desperately to his mission, his identity and of all things, his sanity, the once fun loving billionaire shed his hope. Only the timid light from under the steel door illuminated a part of the cell floor. The BAT was lying on the ground, but this time he doubted anything would come of his new ritual. In fact, Purdue had no idea if it even made contact with Lydia the first time.
With a weary, shivering sigh he pressed the button for the apparatus which started to glow.
“Here we go,” he said, having not bothered to prepare specific words this time.
The cell lit up like the mid of day, ripping through his eyeballs before he closed his eyes, and he waited for the same hum he established before when he spoke his specific words into the atmosphere around him. Purdue wished that the bright light was his highway through time to get home, but diffused on the edges of the beam he could still see the cadaver with the dirty Dutch flag patched to his putrid coat. “I am in hell. Please God, don’t let me stay behind here,” he remarked at the hopeless sight.
‘We won’t leave you, Purdue.’
“What?” he gasped, sitting up and listening attentively. “WHAT?”
He heard the voice again, rising and falling through the static frequency like a ghost voice on a very old radio speaker. ‘Come back.’
Purdue’s eyes welled up with tears and his body shook under the emotion. ‘Nina?’
Vaguely he heard Sam’s words break up through the ether, but then a very loud and distinct sound punched through the void. It was Lydia. ‘Dave, write this
down! Go to Oradour-sur-Vayres! Helmut Kämpfe has the Tesla papers on him! The French Resistance will kidnap him tonight and hide him there!’
‘Come back! We’ll wait for you!’ Nina’s voice fought over Lydia’s with seething fury.
A heated argument ensued over the radio waves before an abrupt cut in power that left Dave Purdue dressed in a cloak of dead quiet night again. His ears hissed from the intense sound that just left him and his eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness again. As the white noise instantly ceased he could have sworn he heard a loud crack, but with all the sounds around him he was uncertain. Purdue was elated to have heard Sam and Nina’s voices reassuring him. Wiping his tears with his sleeve he quickly jotted down the details of Lydia’s transmission, noticing that his writing in the darkness was legible. There was a source of light coming from the open steel door that started him. The door was open?
He leaned forward, slipping the BAT and the note back into his pockets. Two figures stood in the entrance. They stepped inside and came towards Purdue’s cell. He was amazed to see Sigrun and Maria there, each holding a tray. Scrambling to get up, Purdue almost sprained his ankle. In all his life he had never starved like this.
“We brought you some food, David,” Maria said. As usual, Sigrun said nothing. Her identical resemblance to Nina Gould was uncanny.
“Thank you,” he grunted weakly, “so much.”
They slipped the amply stocked trays through the narrow rectangle in the gate and he ripped through the meal like an animal.