by Guy Rosmarin
Andy Nodded. “May 10th, 1941, Hess stole a Messerschmitt and parachuted over Scotland with the intent of negotiating peace with Churchill. That’s what the history books claim.”
“Spring of forty-one, huh….”
“Now you see the connection?”
“How could I not? There must be something out there that can tie it all together.”
“Oh, believe me, I’ve looked at every existing record from the period.”
“So that’s why you’ve been spending so much time with your Nazi friend?”
“You mean Karl?” Andy swiftly turned his eyes back to Nate. The encounter with the FBI suddenly resurfaced, but he knew he couldn’t talk about it, not with Nate, not now. “I can’t really call Karl a friend, and that doesn’t make it any easier.”
Nate glanced at the big screen. “So what are you going to do if you don’t find anything?”
“I’m going to keep looking until I do.”
“You’ve been doing it for how long now? Six, seven years? How many more are you willing to sacrifice?”
Andy just stared at him.
“Look. I’m just saying you have plenty of other options. If this doesn’t go anywhere, you can always put it all away.”
“Put what away…my life?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s one of those riddles that were never meant to be solved, and you just have to let it go and move on.”
“If I do that, I’d be flushing my professional integrity down the drain, not to mention seven years of hard research.”
“So you’d rather waste your life than live up to your potential?”
“Are you saying that I’m not living up to my potential?”
“Don’t get so defensive, Spence, I’m saying this as a friend who cares about you. There’s no doubt you are an accomplished historian and a great professor—a great Harvard professor—but that doesn’t mean you can’t do more.”
“So now you’re mocking my profession?”
“God forbid, no!” Nate sobered his tone. “It’s an honorable profession, and no one can argue with that. But can’t you see you’ve been spending the best years of your life in vain, and for what? To announce some profound theory that very few will ever be able to comprehend?”
Andy shook his head in dismay.
“Look bud,” Nate said, “all I’m saying is that it’s not too late for a career change.”
“You’re joking—right?”
“No, I’m dead serious. You’re only thirty-five and exceptionally smart, it’s a new millennium, there’s a new Bush in the white house, and you have the talent and skills to do anything you want. The opportunities are boundless. I’m not saying you should be a doctor, you may be too old for that, and you’re too good a man to be a lawyer or a banker, but if you were to put a fraction of the effort you dedicate to your research into…I don’t know, anything really, I guarantee you will become a big fat CEO with a big fat salary, and you’d be doing a better job than anyone I can think of.”
Andy’s eyes drifted back to the TV screen.
“What about writing?” Nate tried to recapture his attention.
“Writing?”
“Your first book was a best seller, and it was a history book. Imagine what would happen if you turn to fiction. I have no doubt you’d pile a fortune in no time. Not to mention your music.”
Andy smiled.
“I’m not joking, friend. I’ve seen you play that old piano of yours. Amadeus has got nothing on you.”
“I appreciate the compliments.” Andy laughed. “But despite what you may think, I really do like my job. No one put a gun to my head when I chose to become a historian. I’m happy where I am, really. History is my passion and always has been, and to be perfectly honest, I couldn’t see myself doing anything else.”
“You don’t look so happy to me with that dreary face you wear every time I see you. Life is not all about reaching our ultimate destiny. It’s more about the minutes that make the hours and the hours that make the day, and from what I can tell, there are little things along the way you’ve been missing out on. As far as I know, the only social activity you get involved in is our Tuesday nights.”
Andy bit his lip and nodded in a gesture of concurrence.
“Look,” Nate continued. “All I’m saying is that under all these layers of sophistication, there are basic human needs you’ve been neglecting. Food, sleep, sex are all ingredients of the human condition. I know sometimes you go days without eating or sleeping, and the last real relationship you had was what? Nine years ago? I mean, how do you get off? Is it one of those long-lasting relationships a man has with his right hand?”
“If you must know, I do occasionally wake up with wet shorts. I assume it’s the kind of things you would call a wet dream in your professional lingo.”
“Nocturnal emissions, if you must.”
“Nocturnal emissions, wet dreams…whatever. You know I never remember my dreams, so I can only guess there’s something going on at the other end of the rainbow.”
“You know, that actually makes perfect sense. Since you are so incredibly preoccupied with your life, your subconscious is forced to the corner, and your dreams never register in your memory. When I think about it, you would make a very interesting case for psychoanalysis research. What do you say? A session free of charge with yours truly. And you know me, an offer like that does not come along so often.”
“I’ll take a rain check on that, Doc,” Andy chuckled.
“Don’t fool me. I know you have the time. Isn’t it spring break now?”
“Indeed, but I’m heading to Costa Rica tomorrow.”
“Of course. There’s always something cooking in your pot. Another old Nazi?”
“Supposedly he’s the one with the answers.”
“That’s not the first time I heard that, and I’m willing to put down hard cash it won’t be the last.”
“One can only hope.”
“I hope you didn’t forget about Saturday.”
“What about Saturday?”
“Really?” Nate’s smile instantly turned into a frown.
“What?”
“Passover at Jan’s grandmother,”
“I did not forget,” Andy lied. “I’m only going for three days. It’s this Saturday, right?”
“Yes, it is!”
“I’m back Friday. I will make it. I promise,”
“You better. Everyone is expecting you. Sarah will be very disappointed if you don’t show up.”
“Sarah?”
“You know, my sister in law to be…”
“Man, I know you’re banking on us being brothers at some point, but you know I have no time for this right now.”
“Neither does she. That’s why you two are perfect for one another.” Nate stood up and grabbed his jacket. “I should get going.”
“What do you mean? You just got here.”
“Jan needs me to be home early tonight. She wants to go over the menu.”
“For Passover?”
“No, smartass. The wedding!”
“The wedding? You still have another five months.”
“At least you remembered one important date. Do me a big favor, mark it on your calendar. Five months is a long time.” Nate raised his brow and shoved his folded newspaper under his armpit.
“Maybe I should.”
As he watched his friend leave, Andy realized he had missed an opportunity to get an expert opinion on the strange blackout he had experienced earlier.
Chapter 3
Andy caught a glimpse of the tropical landscape that spread below like a green carpet as the 757 Jet began its final descent to Juan Santa Maria Airport. The line of palm trees spiking along the edge of the runway briefly stole his mind from the gravity of his mission and
made him feel giddy like a spring-breaker.
The six-foot-three husky middle-aged blond man was very easy to spot. Andy slowly made his approach, waiting for eye contact before he raised his hand to wave. Karl acknowledged him with a nod and turned towards the exit, signaling Andy to follow along with a twitch of his index finger.
A blazing high noon sun greeted Andy with dry heat as they walked out of the terminal. He stopped for a brief moment and gaped at the astounding view of the rocky wall in the horizon.
“Welcome to the underworld.” Karl kept walking.
“Looks more like paradise to me,” Andy said as he tried to catch up. “Do we have time for a quick stroll when we get to town?”
Karl shook his head. “We’re meeting our contact at three this afternoon to schedule an interview with Callo for tomorrow.”
“I thought you were the contact.”
“Victor Callo is a very cautious man. I suppose he wants his own men to make sure you’re not a bounty hunter before he invites you to his castle.”
“Couldn’t he just take your word for it?”
Karl stopped next to a gray Land Rover and scowled. He opened the rear gate and walked to the front. Andy tossed his bag in the trunk and rushed to the passenger seat as the engine began to roar. “So, what’s our man’s story? I could hardly find anything on him.”
“Now you want the story?” Karl glanced at the rear-view mirror as he backed up. “He was a Wehrmacht colonel during the early days of the war. His name was Kurt Schmidt back then.” He put the gear in drive and slammed the gas pedal. “Sometime in early 1940, he lost half his Panzer battalion and nearly his own life in Belgium.”
“The Battle of Hannut?”
“I don’t know professor, you’re the expert. Anyway, when he recovered from his wounds, the SS pulled him out of the field and put him in charge of a concentration camp in eastern Poland. One of the first to experiment with extermination methods,” Karl smirked. “Don’t worry my friend, the extermination process didn’t last long. The camp was destroyed in an air raid, right around the time the war expended to the east. The records showed that the commandant perished with his camp. He was considered dead and forgotten until half a century later we tracked down this old textile mogul in these jungles. Good chance he may have something to do with what you’re after, yah?”
The Land Rover stopped next to a columned veranda of an old stone building. “Your hotel.”
Karl granted his passenger a short minute to fetch his bag.
“Meet me in the lobby two thirty sharp,” Karl said. The Land Rover’s tires screeched away the moment Andy shut the rear gate.
Andy stared at the window as he stepped into his room. His frequent travels taught him not to expect much from accommodations, especially in remote destinations. A comfortable bed and hot shower were enough to keep him happy, but a street-facing window…now that felt like luxury. It was a good sign.
Andy dropped his bag on the floor and sat on the bed, slightly bouncing to check the rigidity of the mattress. “Perfect.” He glanced at his wristwatch. It was exactly two. Half an hour was plenty for a quick shower to wash away his travel and get him sharp and ready for business. He hung his jacket in the closet and stopped by the window. A splash of early afternoon sun rushed in and painted the room gold when he pulled up the blinds.
Once he caught a view of the colorful street below, his curiosity pushed aside the yearning for a shower and pulled him towards the door. Five minutes later, he was out on the street, staring at the volcanic horizon that surrounded the San Jose Valley. He let himself get lost in the magic moment until he realized the time.
Karl was sitting on the guest sofa across from the reception desk when Andy walked in. “I hope I’m not late.” Andy checked his wristwatch.
“I hope they don’t think you are. They do not have my patience.
“It’s only 2:25, Karl.”
“I make a habit of arriving at least ten minutes ahead of time for my appointments. I suggest you follow the same practice.”
Andy could barely buckle in before the Land Rover charged the streets. Karl made a few quick turns and soon they were flying up a steep gravel hill, leaving the semi-urban scenery behind. The road ended at the top next to a fort-like brick structure surrounded by forest.
“We’re here!” Karl pulled the car key out, silencing the engine. “Ten minutes early. Just the way I like it!”
“The Summit?” Andy translated the words on the wooden sign from Spanish as they walked out of the car.
“A great place for breakfast,” Karl said. “Nice view of the valley from the back. You can catch the sunrise special if you get here early enough.”
Inside, a vast dining room was lit by direct sunlight, coming through the west-facing screen wall with a few late-lunch customers scattered. The suited host bowed as Karl confidently led the way to a back patio, overlooking a similar landscape to the one that left Andy breathless in the street only minutes earlier. A waiter approached their table shortly after they sat and handed them the drinks menu.
“Schöfferhofer,” Karl said without looking at the menu, “in a bottle, please.”
The waiter nodded. “And for you Señor?”
Andy pointed to the top item in the microbrewery section. “I like tasting culture through the local beer.” He glanced at Karl.
Karl shook his head. “When it comes to beer, there is one simple rule: if it’s not German, it’s piss.”
Andy shrugged. He tried to think of a different topic, but Karl didn’t seem interested in small talk. He turned his eyes to the panoramic view that stretched beyond the balcony. His mind was drawn back to the table when the waiter came with their drinks. He took a slow sip from the dark stout in the pint glass and nodded in appreciation. “So…rich,” he said.
Karl did not respond. He was too busy examining the label on his bottle as if he was looking for an official stamp from the state of Germany to prove its authenticity. Andy wondered if he should bring up his encounter with the FBI. Maybe that would finally get his attention. He was about to speak, but a sudden glance from Karl made him shift his gaze sideways to the stranger entering the patio.
“That’s our man,” Karl whispered and slowly rose from his seat.
The stranger approached with quick confident strides. He wore a casual elegant suit with dark slicked hair and a tanned complexion that added an exquisite contrast to his deep blue eyes. He stood on Karl’s side of the table with his back to Andy.
“Early as usual, Mr. Heime.” There was no trace of foreign accent in his English, at least none that Andy could detect. “Is this another one of your attempts to get my father to serve your gang?” he whispered, leaning over Karl’s shoulder, but Andy could clearly make out every word and nuance.
“I am in the service of History,” Karl stepped back and tried to maintain a cheerful posture. “Doctor Spencer,” he glanced at Andy, “allow me to introduce you to Zachary Callo.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Callo,” Andy rose up and extended his hand.
Zachary slowly turned around. He seemed like he was unaware of Andy’s presence until that very moment. He reluctantly reached for Andy’s hand but released his clasp the moment he saw his face. He continued to look at him for a short moment with noticeable bafflement in his eyes. “So, what brings you to Central America?” He broke his silence and deepened his voice when he noticed Karl staring.
“I was hoping to get an interview with Victor Callo…your father, I presume.” Andy glanced at Karl for reassurance. Karl nodded.
“What exactly can my father help you with?”
Andy could sense the bluntness in his voice, though he felt no intimidation directed at him. “I believe your father may be able to answer some questions I have about the war, based on his experiences.”
“I see.” Zachary scratched the b
ottom of his chin. “Are you affiliated in any way with the organization?” He shot a quick glance at Karl.
Karl was ready to step in and answer, but Andy beat him to it. “I’m a historian, and Mr. Heime is a very reliable and resourceful contact man. Other than that,” Andy looked at Karl, “I know very little about him.”
Karl gave his nod of approval, but Zachary seemed baffled by the answer. He stepped back, took off his sunglasses, and took another close look at Andy.
“Very well,” he put his sunglasses back on and tried to resume his assertive posture, though his voice was trembling. “I must warn you my father is never eager to talk about his past.”
“I guess I will have to take my chances.” Andy forced a smile. “I have no other choice.”
Zachary pulled a cigarette from a pack of Camels in his shirt pocket and lit it. He took a long draw and stepped away from the table. “My father will be expecting you tomorrow at noon,” he said, slowly blowing the smoke out. “Take highway 32 east. About an hour after you pass Siquirres, you will see a sign for 50 kilometers to Limon. Get off the highway after the Esso gas station on your right and continue on the dirt road until you hit a big T-junction. Someone will be there to escort you to the villa. Now, if you will excuse me.” Zachary took a step back and gave Andy another deep stare before he turned around and walked away.
Chapter 4
At sunrise, the Land Rover was already cutting east through the tropical landscape. Andy watched the rain forest through the open window.
“It’s going to be very difficult to meet in your country,” Karl said.
“Why is that?” Andy rolled up his window.
“Your Feds are on my case.”
Andy shook his head and let out a smothered chuckle.
“Did I say something funny?”
“They paid me a visit.”
“What? When?”
“Yesterday. Right after my lecture.”
“And when exactly were you going to tell me this?”
“I’ve been trying to tell you, but you never gave me a chance…In any case, I am telling you now! Is it something I should be concerned about?”