by Greg Iles
then lay back groaning.
"Get a pen and paper," Stern ordered. "Write down everything I tell
you."
Hauer looked at Gadi Abrams, who stood ready to copy down every syllable
he repeated. "We're ready," he said.
'Go ahead."
Stern spoke in a rapid whisper. "I'm being held at a private estate in
the northern Transvaal. It's situated halfway between the Kruger
National Park and a village called Giyani. Have you got that?"
"Got it."
"The house belongs to a man named Thomas Alfred Horn, H-O-R-N."
"H-O-R-N, Thomas Alfred Horn."
Behind Hauer, Professor Natterman gasped. His right arm shot out and
caught Hauer's sleeve. "Captain!"
"Hold it, Stern. The professor-" "What did you say?" Natterman
croaked." What name did you just say?"
Gadi read from his notes. "Horn, Thomas Alfred. H-O-R-N."
"Mother of God. It can't be."
"Go on, Stern," Hauer said angrily. "I think the professor is
hallucinating."
"No, he recognizes the name."
"He's alive!" Natterman cried. "I was right! Hess is alive!"
Hauer pulled away from Natterman's grasp. "Stern, the professor's
yelling about Rudolf Hess."
"You can tell the old fool he was right. Rudolf Hess is alive and
reasonably well. He is also quite mad."
Natterman clawed at Hauer. "Give me the phone, Captain!"
Hauer held the receiver away. "Stern said to tell you that you were
right, Professor. That Rudolf Hess is alive. I think you're both mad."
Natterman shook his head. "Perfectly sane, Captain. I understand it
all now, every wretched bit of it. Alfred Horn was the name Hess'_
double gave the farmer when he first '@chuted into Scotland. My God,
it's so obvious!"
"Hauer!" Stern snapped, his voice strained. "Forget about @,Hess.
We've got a crisis here."
"I'm listening."
"Mounting a rescue along the lines we discussed is no longer an option.
Whatever security forces Hess has here, they were sufficient to repel a
determined attack by a force larger than yours. The stakes have gone
up, Hauer, up beyond belief. Yesterday you a@ked me what I was after.
Well, I've found it. Last night Frau Apfel witnessed negotiations
between Hess and a group of Arabs for a nuclear weapon."
Hauer's eyes met Gadi's. The young Israeli was watching him like a cat.
"I haven't seen the weapon myself," Stern continued, "but I have no
doubt whatsoever that it exists."
"What about HansT' Hauer asked. "And Ilse. Are they still alive?"
"They are. But if you want to see your son alive again 40 Captain, this
is what you must do. Go to the Union Building-that's the huge
government building on the hill in central Pretoria. It's floodlit
every night. On the diird floor you will find the office of General
Jaap Steyn, chief of the National Intelligence Service. That's
S-T-E-Y-N. Jaap Steyn is a friend to me and to Israel. Explain the
situation in the way you think best, but you tell him he needs to mount
an assault of sufficient strength to reduce a fortified position.
You're at least four hours away from me now, so you'll need to move
fast. And keep Hess's name out of this altogether, From this moment on
we speak only of Alfred Horn."
"Just a damned minute," Hauer protested. "You think T.
can waltz into the offices of South African Intelligence and demand a
paramilitary operation on the basis of wild accusations?
They'll laugh me out of the building. If they don't clap me in irons
first."
"They'll have no choice but to cooperate," Stern said evenly. "My name
should be sufficient to get Jaap Steyn moving, but in case it's not, I'm
going to give you some information that will ensure his cooperation.
Write down every single word of this."
Hauer signaled Gadi to hand over the pen and paper.
Stern spoke slowly. "There now exists between the Republic of South
Africa and the State of Israel a secret military contingency plan called
Aliyah Beth-Gadi can spell it for you later. In Hebrew, Aliyah Beth
means 'going up to Zion.' This plan mandates the clandestine removal of
..." 1
Hauer's throat went dry as Stern proceeded to describe in detail the
most sensitive protocol of the secret nuclear agreements between the
Republic of South Africa and the State of Israel. "Is that true?"
he asked, when Stern had finished.
"Captain, with that information you will be able to blackmail General
Steyn into giving you anything you want."
"Or force him to shoot me."
"No. To avoid that, leave Yosef behind at the hotel. Tell General
Steyn that if you don't check in with Yosef by telephone at prearranged
times, he will forward the details of Plan Aliyah Beth to the Western
press."
Hauer sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, Stern. Yosef is dead.
And Professor Natterman is wounded. Some Russians found us.
We've got corpses piled in the bathroom like firewood."
"Leave Aaron at the hotel instead," Stern said tersely.
"The Russians also got hold of our photos of the Spandau papers," Hauer
confessed.
"You thick-headed Kraut!" Stern exploded. "Those rags mean nothing
now! You just get those troops out here!"
Hauer forced down his anger. "Listen, Stern, South African Intelligence
isn't going to give in to blackmail no matter what I threaten them with.
German Intelligence wouldn't."
"You must force them to. I've given you the leverage. But be careful.
Horn didn't gain access to a nuclear weapon by playing recluse up in the
Transvaal. He's probably a key figure in their defense industries.
Trust only General Steyn. His loyalty to Israel is beyond dispute.
Anyone else, God only knows."
"Great."
"Oh, a tactical tip for you, Captain. There's some type Dr rotary
cannon on the roof here, and there could be any number of other
surprises as well. Bring enough firepower to flatten this place if you
have to. Now, could I speak to Gadi for a moment?"
Hauer handed over the receiver.
"Yes, Uncle?"
"Listen to me, Gadi. Captain Hauer is going to give you my
instructions. I want ypu to listen to him as if he were me.
Do you understand? On this mission Hauer will be in command."
Gadi clenched the phone tighter.
"I know it @on't be easy taking orders from a German, but I believe
Hauer is the man to carry this through."
Gadi ground his teeth. "I understand, Uncle."
"Good. Because we are dealing with a nuclear weapon here, Gadi,
possibly more than one. And it is targeted at Israel.
At Tel Aviv, maybe Jerusalem."
Gadi felt his face grow hot.
"The other crazy thing you heard is also true. Rudolf Hess is alive. If
there is any way possible, I mean to get him away from here and take him
back to Israel for trial. But if I can't-or if for any reason you and
Hauer cannot raise enough force to take this house-I will locate the
weapon and try to detonate it."
Gadi felt his heart stop. "No, Uncle-"
"I'll have no choice, Gadi. Anything co
uld happen before you get here.
If you get here at all. It's like the Osiraq reactor in Iraq, only a
hundred times worse.
Do you understand?"
Gadi wiped the sweat from his forehead. "God in Heaven."
"Once you get within a few miles of here, you and every man with you
will be within the blast radius."
"No one else will know," Gadi said in Hebrew.
"Good boy. There's one more thing. Once you learn the exact
coordinates of Horn House, I want you to call Tel Aviv and ask for
Major-General Gur. Explain the situation, give him the coordinates,
then say 'Revelation.' That's the IAF crisis code for imminent nuclear
emergency. I doubt Jerusalem would give clearance for a raid here, but
it's worth a tiy.
If we fail, perhaps the air force will make an attempt. Now, Gadi, I
must go. It's time to become the professor again. I hope to see you
soon, my boy. Shalom."
Gadi swallowed. "Shalom, Uncle."
Stern disconnected.
Hauer stared suspiciously at Gadi for a few moments, but he decided not
to press. He shoved his Walther into his belt.
"Let's go blackmail some spies," he said.
Separated from Jonas Stern by one thin wall, Lieutenant Jiirgen Luhr
held the silent telephone to his ear. Luhr had been unable to sleep
after the exhilaration of the battle, and his wanderings through Horn
House had eventually led him to Alfred Horn's study. He'd been standing
by the shattered picture window through which Ilse had blasted Lord
Grenville when he saw a yellow light flashing on Horn's desk.
Hesitating but a moment, he had lifted the receiver and over heard the
final few seconds of Stern's conversation with Gadi.
Now he stood still as stone, trying to comprehend what he had heard. It
seemed impossible. Apparently Professor Natterman-or the Jew claiming
to be Professor Natterman!-had made a call from somewhere inside this
house.
But to whom? From the little he'd heard, Luhr could not be sure.
He would have suspected Dieter Hauer, but he'd heard the swine on the
other end of the phone speak Hebrew, and Hauer wasn't a Jew. Luhr was
sure of one thing. Alfred Horn and his Afrikaner security chief would
be very grateful to the man who informed them not only that they had a
Zionist spy in their midst, but that they might soon be the target of an
Israeli air strike! With his pulse racing, Luhr dashed into the hall to
rouse the house.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
520 A.iw. Horn House They came for Jonas Stern as the Gestapo had come
for his father in Germany. Four heavy-booted soldiers burst through the
door with pistols drawn and snapped on the overhead light, shouting at
the top of their lungs: "Up JUdin! Up!
Schnell!
The sudden light blinded Stern, for he had been lying fully clothed in
the darkness. He leaped from the bed with his broken fork raised, but
the click of pistol slides made him freeze where he stood. There was
only one explanation for this. The worst had happened. Somehow, on the
same night he had discovered that Alfred Horn was not who he pretended
to be, Alfred Horn had discovered the same thing about him.
Powerful hands seized Stern's arms and lifted him off his feet.
The soldiers-their khaki uniforms now replaced by Wehrmacht
gray-frog-marched him into the corridor and hustled him along at the
double. When Stern glanced up, he saw the cold black eye of a pistol
barrel. Above it hovered the face of Pieter Smuts.
"Where are you taking me?" asked Stern.
"Where do you think, Jew?" the Afrikaner jeered, walking backward. "To
see the Fuhrer!"
Stern stared across the mahogany desk with a lump in his, throat.
Ghostlike and gray, the old man who called himself @
I r
Alfred Horn sat hunched in his wheelchair, an expression of bemusement
on his deeply lined face. As Stern stared, he felt a sudden stab of
doubt. Concealed in his shirt were the@ X-rays that he believed would
prove beyond doubt that' Alfred Horn was Rudolf Hess. And yet ... the
old man sitting across from him no longer looked quite as he had before.
Now, instead of a glass eye, Horn wore an eyepatch.
All Stern could think of was Zinoviev's description of Helmut Steuer:
Helmut had worn an eyepatch. Had Helmut Steuer survived his mission
after all? Was Rudolf Hess really dead? Had Helmut somehow managed to
hunt down Hess's X-rays to conceal the truth? Or had both men survived?
Could it be that Hess had lived for a time as Alfred Horn, and then,
after he died, Helmut had quite naturally taken over the false identity?
Whatever his true identity, the old man across from Stern was not
wearing the plain khaki uniform Rudolf Hess had worn as Deputy Fuhrer of
the Reich. He was wearing a gray suit jacket much like the one Adolf
Hitler had worn as Supreme Commander of German Armed Forces. And
suspended around his neck was the Grand Cross-Nazi Germany's highest
military award. To Stern's knowledge, Rudolf Hess had never won that
decoration.
Pieter Smuts stood rigid behind his master, eyes smoldering, mouth set
in a grim line. Above him reared the bronze Phoenix; directly behind,
the maps from which Stern had copied the coordinates he'd given
Hauer.'Stern sensed the soldiers standing behind him.
"We seem to have a problem of mistaken identity," Horn said. "Would you
care to enlighten us, Herr Professor?"
Stern stood still as a pillar of salt.
Smuts 'nodded. One of the soldiers behind Stern smashed a savage fist
into his right kidney. Stern crumpled, but managed to stay on his feet.
As he straightened up, the two X-rays he had stolen from the medical
unit made a crackling sound. Smuts came around the desk, ripped Stern's
shirt open and jerked out the films. He handed them to Horn; who held
them up to his desk lamp and clucked his tongue softly.
"You're a clever little rat, aren't you?" he growled. "Herr Stern?"
Stern struggled to hold his face immobile as his brain raced to adapt to
the changing situation. If Horn knew his name, that meant that either
Ilse had been made to talk, or Hauer and Gadi had been captured.
Stern prayed it was the former. "I'd say we have two cases of mistaken
identity," he said coolly.
Smuts signaled for another kidney blow, but Horn raised a peremptory
hand. "I think you know who I am," he said, his watery eye twinkling.
"Deputy Fuhrer Rudolf Hess, I suppose?"
"That title is long out of date. After the Fuhrer died, his
responsibilities passed to me."
"You've pinched his uniform and decorations, at any rate," Stern
needled. "I thought the dubious honor of the Nazi succession passed to
Hermann Goring."
Hess colored. Another vicious blow hammered Stern's left kidney,
driving him to his, knees "The Reichsmarschall is also dead," Hess said
testily.
"And the Grand Cross was awarded to me by the Fuhrer himself.
Secretly, of course."
Stern looked up at the old man and stared into the single furtive eye.
"If you are Hess
," he said, "what happened to Helmut Steuer?"
"Helmut died a hero's death in 1941. He was a German patriot of the
highest order, and I immortalized his efforts by awarding him the
Knight's Cross."
"And the tattoo? The single eye?"
Hess shrugged. "I needed a symbol. I couldn't risk telling my
associates my true identity. I wanted a mystical sign that would
signify their bond to me and to each other. I remembered the All-Seeing
Eye from my childhood in Egypt."
Hess touched his eyepatch. "It certainly seemed appropriate.
As did the Phoenix."
All just as Professor Natterman guessed. "How did you lose the eye?"
Stern asked.
Hess grimaced. "A British bullet. I had no access to a doctor until it
was too late." The old man jerked his finger away from his face. "This
is ancient history! I want to know what you hoped to accomplish by your
ridiculous deception, Jew. Other than suicide, of course."
Stern stared back with cold assurance. "I have come to take you back to
Israel to stand trial'for the crimes you escaped at Nuremberg-the crimes
for which your double served a life sentence in Spandau Prison."
Hess's laugh was hoarse and hollow, but frightening all the same.
"You should see a psychiatrist, Herr Stern. You suffer from serious
delusions of the paranoid type. I will arrange for my personal
physician to visit you."
Stern waved his arm, taking in the Nazi regalia that covered the walls.
"You're the one who's mad. If you believe you're going to raise some
kind of Fourth Reich in Germany, you're hopelessly senile."
Hess's eye brightened. "Is that what you think I want? A Fourth Reich
in Germany? I'm afraid the only people with whom you share that fantasy
are paranoid Russians and writers of pulp fiction." He glanced at
Smuts. "Perhaps a few German policemen," he added.
"What is it then? I'm sure you have some master plan for German world
domination."
Hess smiled. "Do you really think I need one? The postwar world has
evolved along the very lines the Fuhrer predicted. Germany-even when
divided-is the most powerful nation in Europe. America has assumed
Britain's imperial mantle and rules the seas in her stead.
Japan rules the Pacific and a lot more besides. Which brings us to the
Soviet Union.
How far are we, really, from seeing Russia as an economic colony of
Greater Germany? The Soviet economy is almost as weak now as it was