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The Spandau Phoenix wwi-2

Page 75

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

 

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