by Greg Iles
just prior to the 1917 Revolution.
How long before it explodes? When that explosion comes, it will be
Germany who rebuilds the country. We'll trade cash for raw materials
and gain access to the enormous markets that will be opened there. The
final step toward economic hegemony over Europe. We already hold the
purse strings to half the American national debt, and our power and
influence grow stronger every day. Reunification is inevitable."
"Then why destroy Israel?"
Hess scratched beneath the black eyepatch. "For the most pragmatic of
reasons, I assure you. In a way, I almost regret having to do it.
Sometimes I think you Jews learned more from the Fuhrer than anyone.
Have you ever seen Israeli soldiers at the Wailing Wall, Herr Stern?
Praying in formation?
It is a sight worth seeing. The Israelis have become the new Germans!
Isn't that a shock? Israel has become a supernationalist, expansionist,
Blood-and-Sacred Soil state with the best-trained army in the world. It
is surrounded on all sides by enemies, just as Prussia was. The Chosen
People, yes? Just as we Germans were chosen to lead the Aryan race!"
Stern stared in wonder at the man before him. "If you strike Israel
with nuclear weapons, you'll start a war that could wipe every country
off the face of the earth. Israel has her own bombs, Hess, and she will
use them."
The old man nodded excitedly. "I'm counting on Israel using her bombs,
Stern! I know exactly what the Zionists have in their arsenal, and more
importantly, I know where their missiles and 'black' bomber squadrons
are targeted.
More than half of Israel's warheads are aimed not at the Arabs, but at
the Soviet Union. Israel does this to prevent Soviet resupply of the
Arabs in the next Mideast war."
Hess's eye gleamed. "But times change, don't they, Stern?
Old men know that best of all. Right now the Israeli warheads point at
the Soviet Union. Ten years from now they will be aimed at Greater
Germany!"
"My God," Stern breathed, "you're trying to provoke Israel into
retaliating against Russia with nukes. When the Arabs wipe out Tel Aviv
or Jerusalem with a sophisticated bomb, the Israeli government will have
no choice but to respond in kind. And where will they respond?
Where could Arabs have procured such a weapon? From the Russians, of
course."
Hess smiled thinly. "I knew you'd appreciate the simplicity of it."
Stern's mouth went dry. "But you can't predict what will happen in a
situation like that! You could ignite a full-scale thermonuclear war!
There's no telling who might be drawn into it."
"It wasn't my original plan," Hess admitted. "But when the British
started trying to kill me last month, I was forced to improvise."
'The British are trying to kill you? They know you're aliveT' "Oh, yes.
Only tonight mI-5 sent men here to kill me-a force of filthy
Colombians." Hess smiled. "But ' I'm afraid they are all dead now."
He fiddled with a pen on his desk.
"I suppose I owe the British a debt of thanks. By rushing me, they
forced me to think creatively, and it was thus I came upon the Fuhrer's
old Palestirfe strategy. The v@ry same year I flew to Britain, Hitler
armed the Mufti of Jerusalem and bade him destroy the Jews of Palestine.
Only it turned out that the Jews had been better armed by their Zionist
relatives in America. I find that quite ironic, since it is ultimately
for the Americans that I now arm the Arabs."
"What?" Stern's eyes widened in disbelief.
"Yes, Jew. The Americans are the inheritors of the Fuhrer's work. Is
that so hard to see?"
"You really are mad. America is the most liberal democracy in the
world!"
Hess chuckled. "If all the Jewish tribe were so naive as you, my work
would be greatly simplified. The Americans are a strange people, Stern.
A violent people."
"They aren't Nazis."
Hess looked bemused. "The other day I was speaking with an American
businessman on the telephone. Do you know what he said to me?
He said, 'Hitler had the right idea, Alfred, he just had a poor
marketing strategy.' "
"An off-color remark is a long way from a fascist revolution."
"Is it really?. I suppose that depends on who's doing the talking. This
man happened to be the president of a Fortune 500 company." Hess drew
an imaginary line in the air. "A very thin line divides democracy and
anarchy in America, Stern. It is concealed by vast material wealth, but
it is there.
And the Americans can be pushed over it. They have been before, and
they will be again. Think about it. Whenever the Nordic American has
felt the existence of his values and race imperiled, he has steeled
himself and done whatever was necessary to insure his survival. Did
Americans shrink from interning thousands of Japanese during World War
Two? Did they shrink from ruthlessly hounding down thousands of
communists in the fifties? In the sixties they even found a way to thin
the ranks of the mongrel blacks, by sending them to die in Southeast
Asia. Ingenious, and so subtle it would put Goebbels to shame! And
what of their precious Constitution? To hell with it! In time of
crisis, Jew, expediency rules!"
Stern was silent. He had seen that principle in operation many times in
the political councils of Jerusalem.
"And what does he face today, the Nordic American?
Abroad, violent terrorism- Arab jackals run mad with power, drunk on a
great tide of oil which willrun out in two or three decades, but not
before the savages succeed in purchasing nuclear warheads and the
delivery systems necessary to threaten the civilized nations! At home
it's even worse! White Americans cannot even walk the streets of their
cities at night. Robbery, murder, and rape are the rule, and all the
work of the mongrel races! Armed gangs roam the streets, just as in
Germany after the Great War. The defiled bloodlines drag America to her
knees, while in the highest circles of power your Zionist Rasputins work
their devious schemes."
Hess steepled his shriveled fingers. "But that is as it should be," he
said softly. "As it must be. Fascism isn't gangs of ruffians scrawling
swastikas on synagogues and tearing up Jewish cemeteries. It is the
final distillate of human society, the purest system of government, born
in the crucible of poverty, injustice, and war. That is why America is
the last hope of the world, Stern. It is there that the final struggle
will begin." Hess waved his hand in disgust.
"Germany has become too fat, too rich. The Fatherland is governed by
cowards who care only for money! Germany could have nuclear weapons of
its own now, if Bonn had any nerve. Social Democrats!" Hess spat.
"The swine should be lined up in front of the Reichstag and shot!"
Hess's solitary eye burned with evangelical fire. "But the change is
coming, Jew. And Germany will be ready. Even now loyal Germans in both
East and West work to push the communists out. When America calls,
; Germany will step forward. Already immigrants choke American employment
lines; drugs poison the small towns; the people see that their
government is powerless to stop the madness. In a few years the
pressure will be so high that the smallest spark will set off the
explosion. And when the spark comes-be it war or plague or economic
catastrophe-when the price of patrol rockets to ninety dollars per
barrel, when American cars sit empty on freeways while their owners
freeze in their homes-then the great change will come. And it will come
like a crash of lightning! A new leader will rise, Jew, and it matters
not who he is! Like the Fuhrer he will be a man of the people. He will
be equal to the times, and when he steps forward the people will
recognize him! They will follow him to glory! America will finally
seize the reins of power she has shied away from for so long! Then
countries like Germany can stand up and play their part!"
"my God," Stern murmured.
"The day of reckoning is nearly upon us, Jew. That is why your race
must be purged. The incineration of Jerusalem will mark the birth of
the new millennium. By the year 2000, the Nordic race will rule over
three-quarters of the globe, and the Jews will be no more!"
Stern shook his head like a man faced with some human aberration of
nature. "But this is so utterly insane," he said
IL,
quietly. "Have you considered your family, Hess? Have you talked to
your wife? To your son?"
Hess turned his face downward. "What could I expect from my son, Stern?
A boy raised in a Germany poisoned by artificially imposed guilt ... a
Germany crippled by a psychological Versailles Treaty in which the
people can never pay enough tears for dead Jews? My family has been the
most painful burden of my life. To watch my son on television, fighting
so valiantly to free the man he believed to be his father. And now that
Horn has been murdered, to know that Wolf believes me dead. It tears my
heart to pieces! So many times I have been tempted. . ." Hess wiped a
tear from his eye and clenched his wrinkled hand into a fist. "My duty
to the Fatherland and to history comes first. I alone have survived to
carry on the Fuhrer's work!"
Stern stared thoughtfully across the desk. "How have you managed to
conceal -your true identity when you so brazenly used the name your
double gave when he landed in Scotland? Surely the name Alfred Horn is
known to anyone familiar with the Hess case?"
Hess smiled cynically. "Why do you assume that I have evaded detection?
Do you think your fellow countrymen are so constrained by moral
absolutes that they would feel compelled to send an assassin to my
(roor?"
"It's been known to happen," Stern said.
"Oh, yes," Hess agreed. "But my dear fellow, I was no Eichmann.
The so-called 'atrocities' against Jews took place long after I left
Germany. I signed a few pieces of legislation limiting Jewish social
activities, but that was simply paperwork. Hardly a reason to execute a
man who can be so helpful in vital areas of your country's national
interest."
"I don't believe you had anything to do with Israel's nuclear weapons
program," Stern said angrily. "No Jew would knowingly deal with you."
Hess leaned his head back with scorn. "Are you really so unworldly,
Stern? You know the saying, 'Don't look a gift horse in the mouth'? I
have found the Israelis to be great lovers of that proverb.
No one can afford to quibble over moral distinctions when he's shopping
for a nuclear bomb.
Not even the Jews. It is poetic, is it not? In their lust for power,
the Jews have sown the seeds of their own destruction. In its quest for
nuclear weapons, Israel gave over its most precious secrets to South
Africa. And I intend to give them back a thousandfold!"
"You won't succeed," Stern said.
Hess smirked. "I presume you're referring to the telephone call you
made to your associates in Pretoria? Requesting the aid of the NIS? Of
General Jaap Steyn, t4O be precise?"
Stern felt his heart stutter.
"In all fairness, I should tell you not to have any great hopes on that
account. The NIS is thoroughly under the control of certain associates
of mine. Respected members of the government." A cruel smile plucked
at the corners of Hess's mouth. "So, perhaps I shall succeed, yes?"
Pieter Smuts chuckled softly. Stern tried to still his quivering hands,
but the snuffing of his solitary hope for rescue drove him beyond
reason. With a primal scream he flung himself across the desk, groping
for Hess's throat. He felt his hands grasp the beribboned jacket, then
the old man's spindly neckSmuts's Beretta crashed down on his skull and
blotted out the light.
I .
6.35 A.m. The Union Building, Pretoria Hauer sat as still as possible
and tried to control his frustration. He had been waiting this way for
almost two hours.
Across the desk from him sat a tall, sandy-haired young man of about
thirty. His name was Captain Barnard, and he was one of General Jaap
Steyn's two personal staff officers. Captain Bernard had been working a
graveyard shift when Hauer and Gadi were ushered into his third-floor
office by an armed duty officer. The young captain had listened
patiently to Hauer's requests to speak to General Steyn, but he had
acted on none of them. General Steyn, Captain Bernard explained, never
woke before seven. And'unless Hauer could be more specific about what
he meant by "national crisis," he would have to wait until then, when
Barnard would be happy to call the general at home. No, the captain had
not heard of an Alfred Horn who had an estate in the northern Transvaal.
At that point Hauer had resorted to blackmail. He mentioned plan Aliyah
Beth, which Captain Barnard blandly explained was "Greek to me." In the
face of this delay, Gadi Abrams stood and moved softly toward the door.
"Where are you going?" Captain Barnard asked sharply.
Gadi reached for the door handle'and pulled. In the doorway stood the
khaki-clad duty officer who had brought them upstairs. He leveled his
pistol at Gadi's belly.
"I'd like to call my embdssy," Gadi said evenly. He was gauging his
chances of taking the sentry before the man could pull the trigger.
The officer seemed to sense Gadi's intentions; he took a quick step
backward.
"Which embassy would that be?" Captain Barnard asked.
"The Israeli embassy."
"You'd best not," said the Afrikaner. "Let's everyone just have a seat,
shall weT' Hauer sat still and tried to remain calm. To be forced to
sit here while Hans and Ilse waited for a bullet, while Stern sweated
out his deception, and while Schneider flew toward Berlin was maddening.
Yet things could be worse. They had not yet contacted the right South
African, but they had not run into the wrong one, either.
Hauer studied the office. It was the twin of a hundred offices in
Berlin. Outside, the Union Building was a massive colonnaded block
built of ocher sandstone and crowned
with twin domes. It sat high atop
a ridge over the capital city, dominating the halogen-lit valley below.
Yet inside, the building was as monotonously official as the Police
Presidium in Berlin.
"I say there," Captain Barnard said suddenly. 'You wouldn't be meaning
Thomas Horn, would you? Thomas Horn the industrialist?"
"We might," Hauer said, cutting his eyes at Gadi.
"Thomas Horn has several houses throughout the country.
I'm not sure about one near the Kruger Park, though."
Barnard's face clouded. "Here now, is Thomas Horn in danger?
He's a very important man in this country."
"He may be," Hauer said carefully.
Captain Barnard frowned. "Someone had better speak up about all this,"
he said. "And damned quickly." , "Captain Barnard," Hauer implored,
"you must see how important this is. How often do foreign law
enforcement officers come in here in the middle of the night and tell
you that your country is in danger?"
"Not very often," Barnard admitted. "And I've half a mind to let you
and your rude companion wait for the general in a police holding cell."
"For God's sake!" Hauer pleaded, coming to his feet.
"There's no time for that!", Without warning, the door to Captain
Barnard's office banged open and a short, heavy-set Afrikaner with
carrot hair and lobster-red skin marched in. The sounds of early
morning office traffic filtered through the doorway until the newcomer
slammed it shut. He looked quizzically at Hauer, then at Gadi, and
finally at Captain Barnard. Hauer was struck with a strange certainty
that the red-haired man had been summoned by the duty officer, for the
guard took up position in a corner with one hand on his holstered
pistol.
"What's all this then, Bernard?" the red-haired man asked sharply.
Captain Barnard stood. "Major Graaff, this is Captain Dieter Hauer of
the West Berlin police. Captain Hauer, this is Ma . or Graaff, General
Steyn's senior staff officer. Major, Captain Hauer claims to have very
important information for General Steyn. He refused to discuss it with
me, so I decided to wait until seven and call the general. As a matter
of fact, I was just about to call-" "Wake the general?" Graaff looked
as if he were being asked to arrange a papal audience. "What the devil
are you men doing here? Out with it!"
Hauer eyed Major Graaff uncomfortably. "Our message is for General