by Erik Foge
Erik’s voice exploded. “Mein Führer!”
“It’s you,” Crowley said in a shocked and disgusted tone, his top lip twisted into a sneer.
Erik nodded. “Trust is good; Control is better.” Then Erik proceeded to empty his magazine into Crowley’s body.
Hitler and Kammler sighed in relief, but the worry in their eyes didn’t disappear until Speer entered the room. Erik hunched over and took several deep breaths, his hands on his knees, while Lieutenant Zeuner clutched a bullet wound in his shoulder and struggled to get off the floor.
Suddenly Bormann, with a Luger in his hand, and the rest of the FBK guards barged into the map room. He pushed Speer out of the way, and the guards, armed with MP-44s, surrounded Erik, seized his Luger, and pointed the barrels of their MP-44s in his direction. Bormann pushed his way through the guards, lifted his Luger, pointed it to Erik’s head, and began to squeeze the trigger. Simultaneously, Hitler screamed Bormann’s name, and Speer pushed the barrel of the Luger away from Erik’s head. A round flew by Erik’s eyes, and the shot reverberated in his ear drums.
“Bormann!” Hitler exploded. Bormann glanced at Hitler, who screamed again. “Bormann! What are you doing? Answer me, Bormann! Now, Bormann!”
Bormann stumbled on his words. “Mein Führer, he was trying to kill you. I was trying to—”
Hitler stopped him as he walked around the desk. “You were trying nothing! Nothing!” Bormann tried to defend his position, but Hitler raised his right hand, which trembled, and continued in his rage. “Bormann, get out! Did you hear me? Get out!” Bormann exited with a disgusted look on his face. “Oh,” Hitler called after him, “and get this mess cleaned up.” He gestured at the guard’s body, then turned to Speer. His expression calmed. “Speer, did we have a meeting?”
Speer grinned and shook his head. “No, mein Führer. I’m with the major.”
Hitler looked confused. “Oh well, you can stay.” He turned to Kammler. “This officer saved my life. I wish I had more officers like him. He is a true National Socialist.” He pointed to Erik and beckoned him forward. Kammler nodded and Erik stepped forward. Hitler tried to stand straight, but his haggard frame and hunched shoulders prevented him from doing so. He squinted at Erik with his pale-blue opaque eyes, and with his left hand, which trembled violently, Hitler tapped Erik’s left shoulder and whispered, “Thank you. Thank you, Herr Major.”
“You are very welcome, mein Führer,” Erik replied while he analyzed the blueprints and drawings scattered on the desk.
Kammler walked around the desk and blocked his vision. “Is there something you need, Herr Major?” He asked in an authoritarian tone.
“No, Sir.”
Hitler turned to Kammler. “I believe the major should see what we’re working on. The Miracle Weapons that will turn the war in Germany’s favor.”
“Mein Führer, I have to protest. These documents are highly sensitive.” Hitler’s expression turned cold; Kammler picked up on Hitler’s vibe and immediately clicked his heels and nodded. He made a space so Erik could stand closer to the desk, and while Hitler and Speer talked, Kammler stared at Erik as if trying to place him. “Herr Major, have we met?”
Hitler and Speer looked in Erik’s direction, then went back to their conversation. “Yes, Sir, you gave me a lift to Berlin.”
“That is right. It’s a small world.” From the bottom pile of papers, he pulled out three drawings of new panzers from the Entwicklung Program. “These new panzers will be able to stop any allied panzer on the battlefield.”
“How about the Russian heavy tanks, like the Joseph Stalin tanks?” Erik asked.
“Most definitely.”
Erik picked up the drawings and recognized the E-50 Panther III armed with an eighty-eight-millimeter gun, the E-75 armed with a one-hundred-and-five-millimeter gun, and finally the E-100, the super heavy tank armed with a one-hundred-and-twenty-eight-millimeter gun. Erik turned to Kammler. “Most impressive. When would these be in production?”
“They already are. If things go as planned, they’ll be in action by March or April of next year and we can push the Americans and English back to the beaches.” He handed Erik three more drawings. “These U-boats will be more advanced than anything the allies can put forth.”
Again Erik recognized two of the three U-boats. One was the XXIB with six torpedo doors on each side, and the XXIC with nine on each side. Both U-boats were ahead of their time due to technological advances in design, depth capabilities, propeller construction, and submerging speed.
“Are these —” Erik began.
“Production will begin next year.”
“Diesel powered?”
Kammler grinned. “No. How primitive.” Erik waited patiently, and Kammler added, “We’re working on a new propulsion system, first using fusion and then nuclear. It’ll make sure that our U-boats stay out to sea longer.”
Impressed, Erik looked at the last U-boat drawing, which he didn’t recognize. “What can this one do?”
“This is the XXIN. It’ll be able to launch our rockets against any city that is currently out of range.”
“Conventional rockets?”
“No. These rockets will be able to destroy a city in a single blast. We are only months away from a successful test. The V-2 rocket will launch from the U-boat.”
“What kind of warhead will it have?” Erik asked, knowing the answer was atomic. “Has that been tested?”
“We have already done a successful test with the atomic weapon, and the XXIN should be ready by early next year if everything goes as planned.”
“Can I ask what you mean by ‘if everything goes as planned?’” Erik asked.
Kammler shook his head.
“I’m guessing you have weapons for the Luftwaffe.”
“We do indeed, jet fighters and jet bombers. They’ll dominate the air and shoot down every Allied aircraft.”
Erik remembered the aircraft he saw at the Peenemünde Research Complex. “Like the ones in the hangers, and the one that was landing?”
“Herr Major, I would like to remind you that I cannot confirm or deny what you saw.”
“Herr Major,” Hitler whispered and motioned Erik to come closer.
“Yes, mein Führer?”
“Walk with me.”
Erik thanked Kammler and they shook hands. Then Erik and Hitler left, and Speer followed. Outside the door, members of the FBK surrounded them with their weapons drawn and ready to be fired. “Speer has told me good things about you, Herr Major,” Hitler said as they strolled down the hallway where medical personnel were already clearing the corpses.
“Thank you, mein Führer. Speer is a good man also. I would listen to him.”
“I do. He’s going to rebuild Berlin.” He lowered his voice. “Have you seen the models on the table?” Erik shook his head, and Hitler’s eyes brightened. “It is in my office. Speer is my architect. He’s going to make buildings that last a thousand years.” Erik nodded and grinned. “So,” Hitler continued, “do you work under Himmler?”
“No, mein Führer.”
“Gestapo? RSHA?”
“No, mein Führer.”
Hitler looked both surprised and puzzled. “Then who?” He waited, clearly eager to know who Erik worked for.
Erik knew he was taking a big gamble, but he also knew that Hitler would forget due to his unstable mental condition. “I work for the CIA, mein Führer.”
“Who? I never heard of them.”
“Central Intelligence Agency.”
Hitler shrugged and continued walking.
“We are a fairly new agency, mein Führer.” Erik quoted an ad he had seen in a newspaper once. “Our business is knowing the world’s business.”
“I see. Your agency sounds very important. We need more people like you, Herr Major.”
They exited the forward bunker and approached Hitler’s office. Erik glanced around the courtyard and saw that the bodies of the FBK guards had been removed and replac
ements had arrived.
“Are you a dog person?” Hitler asked.
“Yes, mein Führer.” Erik saw an orderly who held the leash of Blondie, Hitler’s German Shepherd.
“Blondie is smarter than most of my generals, and she is a good judge of character.”
The orderly handed Hitler the leash. Blondie panted and wagged her tail. “She likes you.” Hitler smiled, gave the leash back to the orderly, and looked at Erik. “If she didn’t like you, I would have you shot.”
Hitler ordered Erik, Speer, Zeuner, Kammler, a few members of his staff, and his Generals into his office.
Erik stood by Speer. “What’s going on?”
Speer shrugged. “I wouldn’t worry. He likes you.”
“That’s good because he said he’d have me shot if Blondie didn’t like me.”
“That’s him trying to be funny.”
“Killer punch line.” Erik and Speer chuckled while Hitler’s office filled up with people. “I guess it’s a good thing he likes me.”
Speer nodded. “Indeed. It helped me get where I am today. Otherwise, certain members of his inner circle would try to get rid of me. It helps that he thinks I’m still his architect.”
“I know. He told me you are rebuilding Berlin.”
Speer shook his head. “That’ll never happen now, but maybe when the war is over.” Speer nudged Erik. “Let me show you something.”
He escorted Erik to an oversized table with a miniaturized city on it. Erik gasped in stunned silence when he realized that he was looking at the model of Germania in all its astonishing detail, both large and small.
Albert explained that Hitler hoped to win total victory by 1945, and as Hitler’s architect, he was to implement the plan to construct the Welthauptstadt Germania. Erik glanced over the model as Speer explained some of the highlights, which Erik had read about in books: Berlin was to be reorganized around the five kilometers long Prachtstrasse, or Street of Magnificence, also known as the Avenue of Victory, which would be lined with trees and anti-aircraft batteries that symbolized strength. The colossal Germania Triumph Arch, also known as Hitler Triumph Arch, would be located at the South Axis. Speer explained that it would be twice as tall as and four times wider than the Arc de Triomphe in Paris.
He then pointed out The Volkshalle or People’s Hall, also called Große Halle or Great Hall, the focal point for the North Axis and the center of the new capital which would tower over all the buildings. Erik asked how it would compare to the dome of St. Peter’s Basilica, and Speer said it would be sixteen times larger. Erik nodded, suitably impressed, and told Speer that Berlin would’ve been a beautiful city if it hadn’t been for the war. Speer nodded in agreement, then said they should take their place because everyone was getting ready for a presentation.
Hitler, from behind his desk, pulled a case out of his drawer, and Bormann gave Erik a frigid stare.
“Ignore him,” Speer whispered.
Erik nodded and then saw a man with a camera slip into the room. Oh shit. Erik thought.
Hitler ordered the room to attention. Simultaneously, everyone snapped to attention and clicked their heels.
“Major Függer, front and center,” a strong voice ordered.
Erik proceeded to the center of the room and found Dr. Goebbels there waiting for him.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Goebbels continued, “you are wondering why we called you here. An act of unselfishness and heroism was carried out by an extraordinary individual. He overcame great odds and risked his life. He never questioned what was wrong or right; he just knew he had to save his Führer at all costs. His name is Major Erik Függer. Our Führer, as I do, believes he should be awarded for his acts of heroism.”
Hitler approached Erik with the case in his hand. Goebbels helped Hitler and took the case, and Hitler stood before Erik. From the corner of Erik’s eye, he saw the camera which faced his direction and was greatly relieved when a distant explosion rattled the foundation, causing the camera to drop and the lens to shatter on the floor.
Goebbels grinned and whispered, “Camera shy?”
“Yes, Dr. Goebbels.”
Hitler spoke. “Major Függer’s acts of heroism remind me of when I was a soldier during the First World War. I was awarded the Iron Cross First Class for my actions. We also have a medal for individuals who show outstanding achievements and heroism. They are known as war heroes of the Reich.” Goebbels opened the case, and Erik couldn’t believe what was inside. Hitler continued, “This is the highest medal of the Third Reich. I was planning for it to be awarded after the end of the war to Germany’s twelve greatest heroes. But today, we have our first hero, Major Erik Függer.”
Goebbels removed the medal—the Gold Knights Cross with oak leaves, swords, and diamonds on it—and placed it around Erik’s neck. Then he shook his hand and congratulated him. Erik clicked his heels and did the Nazi salute, and Hitler, with everyone else following behind, did the Nazi salute as well. Applause filled the room and everyone walked up to shake Erik’s hand and thanked him. Kammler thanked Erik for saving his life and told him he could use someone like him in his outfit. Erik politely thanked him but turned down his offer. Before he left, Kammler turned to Erik. “Herr Major, by any chance did I leave some documentation on the plane?”
“Sorry, Herr Obergruppenführer I saw nothing.”
Kammler studied Erik, nodded and left, and Zeuner walked and crossed the room. “You are brave just like your brother; thank you for saving our lives.” Erik nodded in appreciation, and Zeuner leaned over and whispered in Erik’s ear. “You actually turned down an offer with him.”
“Yes, I did.”
“He never offers anyone a position. It’s an honor to work with him and do what we do at Peenemünde.”
“Thanks, but no thanks.”
“Why do you not want to work with us?”
“I have my reasons.”
Zeuner nodded in understanding, shook Erik’s hand, and excused himself. Then a short, skinny man, with hazel eyes, circular eyeglasses, and slick dark brown hair approached Erik. He wore a night-black SS officer’s uniform showing the rank of Reichsführer. Erik quickly realized it was Heinrich Himmler and snapped to attention. Himmler extended his hand and said, “Congratulations, Herr Major.” Suddenly his expression changed; it appeared as if something had struck him. “By the way, have we met before?”
“Thank you,” Erik replied, “and no, Herr Reichsführer, I am afraid not.”
Hitler walked up to Erik and pulled him aside. “Thank you again, Herr Major. What can I do for you?”
“Two things, mein Führer.” Hitler nodded and Erik continued, “I would like to go home to see my wife.”
“Of course, and the second?”
“Always listen to Speer. And if he asks you to sign a document in the trying days to come, sign it.”
“I will. Have a safe trip home.”
“Thank you, mein Führer.”
Erik made his way out, and Speer joined him. “Congratulations, Erik.”
“Thank you, Albert. You deserve one of these, too.”
“No, I do not.” Speer pointed at Erik and shook his head. “You saved him, not I. Where are you going now?”
“Home to see my wife. I don’t know how I’ll get there, though.”
“You can take my personal train.”
“Personal train?”
“I have my own personal train, plane, car, and even petrol supply.”
“As any Reich Minster should,” Erik replied.
Speer nodded. “Erik, my friend, I hope to see you again. We’ve been through a lot in the short period we’ve known each other.”
“I’d like that.”
“I would as well. What do you plan to do after the war?”
“Spend time with my family. Maybe write a book.”
“A book? What would you write about?”
“My experiences; I think you should write one, too.”
“What kind of experi
ences?” Speer paused. “You are with Sicherheitsdienst.” Erik glared at Speer as if asking how he knew. “Mrs. Kohl told me.”
“Ah.”
“I won’t tell anyone you’re a spy.”
“I’m not a spy. I’m an analyst.”
“Sure you are. Next, you’re going to tell me you work undercover in a museum.”
“Enough, Albert.” Erik faced him. “You know what you should do?”
“Be quiet?”
“Yes, but besides that. You, Albert Speer, should write a book.”
“You’re not serious.”
“I am. You have firsthand knowledge of what it’s like to be a part of Hitler’s inner circle.”
“True, but do you think people would buy it?”
“I believe they would, Albert. Who knows, it might be a bestselling novel.”
“What would I call my book?”
“I don’t know … maybe … Inside the Third Reich.”
Speer pondered for a moment, rubbing his chin. “That sounds like a good title. I would give you an autographed copy.”
“Thanks, Albert. But I wouldn’t mention today in your book.”
“Why would you say that? I think it would make interesting reading.”
“In my opinion, I don’t think most people would want to hear that Hitler was rescued. Especially since the Allied powers and most of the world hate him.”
Speer considered the matter. “I see your point.”
“Thanks for your trust and help, Albert. You’re a good Nazi.”
“A good Nazi.” Speer grinned. “I will have to remember that.”
“Yes, do.” The world will never learn what I’ve done, and even if a few do, my name will never be known. Erik thought.
But Erik knew that not only had he preserved history, but also with any mission the best moments come when the job ends and the bullets stop. But first, he would have to race to the Kohl’s residence and pick up the folder he had let Helmut hold. Now he had to make a long trip to Jamie, move, and get settled in Washington D.C. Then they could start a new life.