The Cleansing

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The Cleansing Page 44

by Shane Crosby


  “I’ll never forget the welfare office.”

  “Don and I thought the AG had missing person’s files, but they weren’t. They were actually reports from that new system the government implemented. Someone put them into a police database as missing. This triggered the database and it funneled the information into all of the federal databases.”

  “The problem was, a lot of those people hadn’t been reported missing.”

  “So, who was putting their names into the system?”

  “Shana Jackson’s file, that’s why it was locked; remember Don?”

  “I sure do. Someone knew you had contact with the mother.”

  “They were watching me then. They knew I’d be a problem.”

  “They just didn’t anticipate how much. When they realized it, it was too late.”

  “They took my family to stop me. Those clubs are in every city and country on the AG’s list. I knew it. I always knew those clubs had something to do with this. Damnit Jack! We were right!”

  “They were using the clubs as a supermarket.”

  “That’s right. The same menus like at your meeting. I remember Marlene Crews telling us about that.”

  “Damn. How we going to prove it?”

  “I don’t doubt what you’re saying, Trevor. None of us are, but it’s all conjecture to anyone outside of this room.”

  “And, if I might chime in. The DNA samples, the bones were burned too badly. I didn’t get good enough samples to convince anyone.”

  “It’s not your fault. You’ve been trying to almost a year.”

  “I’m sorry. I wish I had better news.”

  “Not your fault, doc.”

  “What are we gonna do?”

  “Solve this case, somehow.”

  “We don’t have proof right at this moment, but that doesn’t mean we can’t get it.”

  “We sit on what we have until we can get proof.”

  “What about those women? The families?”

  “I know Mase, but if we turn any of this stuff over to anyone in the government who knows what will happen from there. They won’t believe us. I know that because I work with them.”

  “So do I. I’ll be the people you come to. They’ll sweep it under the rug because it’s a black eye on the US. International criminal ring selling sex right under the CIA’s nose. They’ll never allow that to come to light.”

  “I don’t want to be hunted by my own organization.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “So, what? Just do nothing?”

  “Of course not. We’re going to continue to work what we have until we have what we need.”

  “We don’t have a choice, I guess.”

  “We do have plenty of choices. It just hard to do because it’s the right choice. It’s always the hardest to do what’s right. I never understood that.”

  “Neither do I, but you’re dead on with that one.”

  “So we sit on this and wait.”

  “No, we work while we sit.”

  “Deal.”

  And, so that’s what we did. We kept everything we found out to ourselves, but we never stopped working the case. We never stopped trying to put that final piece of the AG’s puzzle together.

  NINE MONTHS LATER

  PURPOSE?

  Don

  The past three years were full of adventure, not the kind you sit around and entertain your friends with at a party, no. The kind that leave you dripping in sweat and wake you up screaming in the middle of the night.

  After we came up lame on our visit to Florida and Russia, we continued to work on the information left by the Atty. General. We went through it every day, spending countless hours on each minuscule detail. We couldn’t get past that titanium wall.

  As badly as we all hated to give up, we had to admit defeat. It’s a bitter pill to choke down accepting defeat from the enemy. These people chased us and tried to kill us for almost three years and we couldn’t get them. That alone is enough to give me indigestion every time I think about it.

  Mase, Scott and myself went back to active duty. Dub went back to work for his special unit with the CIA. He didn’t want to, but J went back to work, which means back to the states. He has guards that follow him everywhere he goes. But, Dub forever the big brother and protector wanted to be close to J so he’s back being the field operative although not as much as he used to.

  I was promoted to Captain and moved to a new house. Mase has a new job within the military and also moved.

  Trevor still couldn’t return to the states. He said there’s nothing there for him. He went to work for Arie and enjoys what he does. The reason why his name was mentioned in that audio file is still undetermined. However, he has yet another theory. He believes it was the Attorney General who left the audio file. He believes he knew of our familial connection to Jared and that’s why he was mentioned. Like everything else with this case, we don’t know for sure. All we can do is say it’s plausible.

  The information we gathered on PPV Industries we’re going to sit on until we can put an end to whatever is going on. We all still think of those women and little girls. I know each night I close my eyes, I see them. I see their hands sticking out of that building. Their screams and pleas for help. They’ll never leave me.

  Although, no one is shooting at us now, they’re still out there and inside our heads. We survived. Meaning, we’re walking and talking. But, we didn’t survive with our same old lives or outlook on life. They’ve changed tremendously since that first call from brother about a soldiers missing wife three years ago.

  I was happy about that because I still believe he knows something. Maybe, one day we won’t have to look to others to explain what happened here and in other parts of the world. Maybe, we’ll be able to find those answers and provide that closure to everyone who this travesty has touched.

  BACK TO THE ROUTINE

  BERLIN

  Don

  If I gave you the option of going to work every day, sit behind a desk and tap, tap away on your little computer at your cubical in lieu of running for your life, being bombed, shot at and not knowing if you were going to see tomorrow which would you choose? You may think this odd. I’ve lived both and I’m undecided. At least when I was threatened with death it was because I had a purpose. Now that purpose is gone and I’m back to this mundane drab existence I’ve called life for twenty years. I’m realizing I haven’t been living at all. Funny, how some of the worst experiences can open your eyes and allow you to see clearly for the first time ever.

  Today started out like the others have. I get up, jogged six miles, ran from the damn neighbor’s dog. I’ve moved and I’m still running from the neighbor’s dog.

  I finished my morning routine as quickly as possible. Out the door with my standard cup of coffee and into morning traffic. I went into work to prepare to meet with my team and discuss what’s going on around the base. I still have three years’ worth of mail that was waiting for me at the post office. I’ve only gotten through half of it. If you look up procrastinator in the dictionary, you’ll see my face.

  Took a swig of my morning coffee and ready to start the day. At least, I thought I was.

  Someone’s knocking on the door...

  “Enter.”

  “At ease.”

  “Sir, there’s a woman out here that says you’ve been waiting to see her.”

  I know my Private could see me trying to figure out who this could be. I didn’t have a clue. Since I got married, random women coming into base to confront me for cheating lying or standing them up hadn’t occurred in ten or twelve years so to say I was perplexed was an understatement.

  “I can tell her you’re busy sir. She was so insistent I thought it would be better to check with you first.”

  “No, no it’s ok. You did the right thing, private. Go ahead and bring her back.”

  “Are you sure, sir? I can take a message.”

  “No, it’s ok.”

  He l
eft my office, walked back down the hall to retrieve my unexpected guest. I had a million thoughts walk through my head within the few moments it took him to walk from my office down the hall and back again. Who could this be? I hope this isn’t someone coming to kill me. I got up and stood on the side of my desk with my weapon up waiting to fire if needed. The footsteps were getting closer to the door until they stopped and I heard my private knock.

  “Come in,” I said. He opened the door and walked into my office. I quickly put my weapon away. The person behind him wasn’t what I expected. A portly woman with a scarf around her head entered with the private. A black purse like the ones the women on the mother board at church carry adorned her arm. Her knee high stockings had slipped down her leg revealing the discoloration only old age causes. She had on gym shoes and you could hear her slightly labored breathing. I greeted them with a smile walked towards her to offer my assistance. She took my arm and I walked her to my desk and offered her a chair.

  “Hello, Lieutenant.”

  You could hear her German accent, not as thick as Arie’s, but still present.

  “It’s Captain.”

  “Oh, you’ve made Captain now? Congratulations.”

  “Thank you.”

  “My name is Adie. Adie Müller.”

  “Hello Mrs. Schmidt, how may I help you?”

  “You visited some relatives of mine.”

  “I did? May I ask what it was about?”

  “About my nephew.”

  “Your nephew, ma’am? Did something happen to him?”

  “No. Let me explain. You went to Florida to speak with the Buchanan’s, yes? And, later the Hoffman’s, yes?”

  I was in awe that someone is sitting in my office inquiring about our visit to the states over nine months ago.

  “Why yes ma’am, I did. They refused to speak with us.”

  “Yes, but they told me you’d come. After the death of my nephew, I thought it best not to keep our secret any longer.”

  “What secret would that be, ma’am?”

  “Gerhardt was my brother. I’m sure you know his history, that’s why you visited my family, yes?”

  “Gerhardt Richter is your brother?”

  “Yes, he was.”

  Now I’m interested. Not just interested but in disbelief that after all of this time a relative of this creep lived close enough to walk onto a military base sit down in my office and engage me in conversation. How did we miss this?

  “Yes. We were trying to find his family. We were unsuccessful in locating the infant son. Did something happen to him?”

  “I have the answer to your questions right here. It’s easier for me to show you than explain with words.”

  She opened a bag and took out a leather bound book of pictures. She placed the book on my desk and invited me to take a look. I opened the book and was at that instance sucked into those pages and what they represented. I don’t know what it is about pictures. Everyone is always so willing to offer them to you for viewing and you’re just as eager to look. As I turned the pages within this book, it told a life story for the ages. It went from black and white to basic color to vibrant modern day technological colorized photos. In this one book, you could see the world’s progression right in front of you.

  When I started turning the pages, I did so with the anticipation of a kid at a birthday party. Or like when I was at my friend’s wedding, even though they aren’t your presents, you’re excited to see what’s inside every one.

  The first pages were of a family in old world country. A horse and bugging were a part of the back drop along with old brick buildings and farm houses smiling kids, boys with overalls and girls with bonnets. As you turned each page you could see how ancient this book was, not just from the outdated clothes and primitive transportation methods, the pictures were taped down on black pages and the tape had all but disappeared. There was only an outline of where someone with the care and adoration only a loved one could hold painstakingly and meticulously aligned each photograph perfectly taping the corners so they wouldn’t move. Smiling faces jumped off the pages in every picture. With the turn of each page, my interest peaked. I found myself reciprocating the smiles leaping out at me off those pages. And, just like that, the jubilation and childlike enthusiasm was gone. The next page revealed the story of this country’s ugly history. Pictures of her brother, Gerhardt and his fellow Natzis standing proudly with wide grins and protruding chests as if they were doing great things for their country. The back drop of these pictures showed death, hopelessness and atrocities that destroyed the family network of tens of thousands of people. Auschwitz was in each picture, the half dead and walking dead could be seen in some. Disbelief was the emotion that filled my office. I swear. It was as if I could hear the screams and pleas of these people seeping off those pages. With the continued flip of my wrist, I felt more nauseated, but it was difficult to stop looking. It was like I was walking through a museum. I sat there for what seemed like hours just taking a stroll through history. I was so caught up in the story, I didn’t realize what I was seeing. Then, suddenly, it dawned on me, I’d left the Stone Age and stumbled into the period when photos were colorized. As I continued to walk through this decade, the color photos started to unveil the face of someone I thought I knew. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. I tried to ignore what I was seeing and what my mind was telling me. After going through most of the book, I couldn’t ignore or explain it away any longer. I was looking at the President of the United States. From infancy, to toddler and up until he was a young adult, there he stood. happy, smiling with the same features and identical smile as his family members, bearing a striking resemblance to his dad, Gerhardt Richter. To say I was shocked, dismayed bamboozled wouldn’t scratch the surface of my emotions, everything started to become clearer. That’s why relatives of Gerhardt were being murdered. He was systematically taking steps to permanently keep his secret. Somehow, he couldn’t locate the last remaining sister of his dad; his aunt and that’s why she’s sitting here today. A bunch of killers and murders outsmarted by an old lady. As disgusted as I am, I still see the humor in that. But, how could this be? A sitting President of these United States the son of a Nazi; born in Russia. This would also mean the President of the United States wasn’t an American citizen. How did he get away with that?

  “Mrs. Gerhardt....”she corrected me.

  “Müller.”

  “Sorry, Mrs. Schmidt are you trying to tell me the President of the United States is your nephew?”

  “I’m not trying to tell you anything. I’ve just told you.”

  “Yes, I guess you have. Why did you take so long to come forth with this? Why hasn’t someone in your family come forward long before now?”

  “You visited my nephew and he died of injuries sustained in the bombing of his home, yes?”

  “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “So are we, but it is how life goes. People live and die. He died too soon. He was my favorite nephew. Anyway, I found out about my sister in laws sisters and my distant cousin in Florida. I know our history. I knew who he was and that he was trying to cover it up. I went into hiding. I knew he would be coming for the book. He was only going by memory from stories as a child. Always a bright child, he was able to memorize key components and put them into action. So, does this answer at least one of your questions?”

  “Yes. But, why are you’re here? And, what book”

  “When I found out, I was very angry. I decided it was time to set this family free of the lies and secrets that we’ve kept for almost a century.”

  “Mrs. Müller.....”She interrupts.

  “Adie, please.”

  “Sorry Ms. Adie.” She laughs.

  “I see your parents raised you properly. You see an old woman and you’ve been raised to give them respect just for lasting in this life long enough to get wrinkles and crow’s feet, yes?” She starts to laugh.

  “Yes, ma’am I was taught to respect t
hose who have come before me.” I smiled back at her.

  “Okay, then we will do it this way. Ms. Adie, it is. Only for you because I see you’re a respectable young man.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “Now with your questions.”

  “Would you like something to eat first? Or drink?”

  “Maybe some Coke? I shouldn’t have it. But, where I live we don’t have these niceties.”

  “No problem. We’ll get you a Coke.” I picked up the phone and called my Private to bring some Coke.

  “Ms. Adie, after what happened to your nephew why have you come forward? You were in hiding. I know he was your favorite, but he paid with his life.”

  “I thought long and hard about it. I was the youngest of my siblings. I’m seventy-eight years old. I’ve lived my life. My years are numbered every day. I wanted to leave this world doing something good. I didn’t want to have to guess where I was going to end up when I’m dead so I decided to come here and come clean. I figure it’s better you ask me about this then the man upstairs and He decides to send me the other way, you see.” She started to laugh and I joined in.

  “I certainly do understand.”

  “It was time. I wanted to stand up for my nephew’s memory. Thank you for trying to get him help.”

  “You don’t owe us any thanks. I wish we could’ve saved him.”

  “You did what you could, that’s what matters.”

  Our conversation was interrupted when my Private knocked on the door and entered with a case of coke.

  “Oh, thank you! I did not expect such wonderful treatment here. Thank you so much, young man.”

  “Yes, ma’am no problem, enjoy.”

  “I will. Thanks once more.”

  The Private saluted turned and walked out of the office.

  “Now, shall we begin with my sordid past?”

  “Go right ahead ma’am.”

  “We’re relatives of Hitler so your country has Hitler running it. Did you know this?”

  “No ma’am I did not.”

  “Now you know something no one in the country knows. What you do with this information is up to you. Our father used to be close friends with Hitler. He was a cousin of our mother. They were sister’s children. He would come to our house when we were young to eat with us. As they grew into young men, Hitler’s ideas used to scare my father. He would say Hitler was not with all his mental abilities. He always hated the Jews and felt Germany was better off without them. He tried to become a part of the Government so he could create ways of keeping the Jews out of Germany. It consumed his thoughts so much so, one night he and my father were returning from a night out. On their way back they saw a few Jewish teenagers. Before my father could get him off of the teen he’d almost beaten him to death. They all tried to get Hitler off the boy, but as my father put it, it was like he was possessed. From that point on, my father said Hitler was possessed with the devil. He forbid us from speaking with him. Unfortunately, it was too late for Gerhardt. For some reasons, he had become enamored with Hitler. After school, he would sneak off to visit Hitler. When Gerhardt became an SS soldier, he was banned from my parent’s home. None of us siblings would speak to him. I believe this may have been a grave mistake.”

 

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