The meeting went on for several hours of planning and assigning tasks. The teams left for Europe several days later. None of them carried Israeli passports.
Chapter 17
January 1944
According to the records of the German border patrol, one Fritz Goernnert had indeed escorted a truck into Switzerland in March of 1942. The IDF Captain representing the Allied Oversight Forces requested the German Ministry of the Interior find where Fritz Goernnert was resided now. It was surprisingly easy. Apparently Goernnert didn’t feel guilty and lived openly in Berlin on a small pension. He also worked as an aviation consultant to the German Ministry of Defense.
On a snowy and cold morning in the first week of January two Mossad agents visited Goernnert at his apartment. A week earlier, the agents and their boss debated whether the visit to Goernnert should be by German police or something else. They settled on a compromise.
The apartment building was on a street close to the center of the city. It looked like it was newly renovated; judging by the adjacent buildings the neighborhood had been hit by at least one bombing raid.
The two men entered the lobby. There was a doorman and a receptionist. This was an expensive building; Goernnert either made a lot of money as a consultant or had other sources of income.
The doorman was polite but followed closely behind the two as they approached the receptionist. “We need to see Dr. Goernnert,” the older man said.
“Is he expecting you?”
“No, and you will not notify him,” the older man said, flashing his fake German KRIPO (Criminal Police) badge.
The receptionist nodded to the doorman who pressed a button to summon an elevator and opened the door for them.
As soon as the door closed the older man opened it. The receptionist was on the intercom.
“I told you not to notify him. Is it really worth spending a couple of years in the slammer for interfering with a police investigation?” He jerked the receiver from the receptionist, replacing it in its cradle.
The receptionist was a big man and started to get up from his seat. He quickly sat down at the sight of the second agent’s gun. The older agent pulled the telephone’s cord out of its wall socket; it would take a technician to reconnect it. “I wouldn’t like you to be tempted,” he said with an unpleasant smile.
The man who opened the door of the fourth floor apartment was cautious but not hostile. “How can I help you?” he asked through the door, opened a crack and held by a security chain.
“Dr. Goernnert, my name is Heinz Kimmel. This is my colleague Rudi Alprecht. We would like to ask you a couple of questions.” The older agent showed his police ID to Goernnert.
Goernnert hesitated. “It’s very early and I will have to go to my office soon.”
Heinz smiled. “We could take you to the precinct but that would be a hassle and it’s not really necessary. You should be able to make it to your office in plenty of time.”
Goernnert made a decision, removed the chain, and opened the door.
After they were seated in the living room Goernnert said, “Please go ahead but try to be quiet. My wife is still asleep and I wouldn’t like to wake her.”
“No problem. We have only a couple of simple questions. Some facts first: On June 25, 1942, only a few days before Reichsmashall Hermann Goering was assassinated, you arrived at the Beerli bank in Zug, Switzerland, with a truckload of gold. Tell me the account number and access code you used.”
“You are mistaken. I never left Germany during the war.”
Heinz nodded to his partner, who opened his briefcase and pulled out two pieces of paper. The first was a page from the border post at Konstanz listing Goernnert as escorting a truck into Switzerland; the second was an authorization letter signed by Goering.
“Dr. Goernnert, please don’t underestimate us. We know everything there is to know about you.” Heinz smiled a predatory smile. “I really would like to finish this business quickly. On the other hand, I’m not against Rudi having some fun with you.”
“You’re not from the police, are you?”
“Not on this assignment. We are part of your old organization and, as you know, will stop at nothing to get information. We really don’t care what it costs you. Your wife and two kids are less than pawns in this game.”
“Please, not my wife or kids. They know nothing of this matter. I will tell you everything.”
“Good. Just don’t lie. The bank opens in an hour and a half and our comrades will present your information then. If it’s correct you will never hear from us again. If you lie, we will know as soon as the bank opens and you will regret it.”
Goernnert hesitated and then gave them two numbers. Rudi picked up the phone on a little stand in the foyer, dialed, and recited the two numbers.
Now they waited. Soon there were noises from the other end of the apartment and a woman called out, “Darling, where are you?”
Goernnert looked at Heinz, who nodded. “I have business visitors. We are in the study. Can you please keep the kids out of here?”
At five minutes past nine the telephone rang. Rudi picked up. “The sun is shining,” said a voice on the other end.
Rudi nodded to Heinz who got up. “Dr. Goernnert, it was a pleasure doing business with you. Remember that if you mention this to anyone, you and your family will pay the price.”
After the two agents were gone Goernnert congratulated his foresight in putting aside enough loot to make him and his family comfortable for a long, long time.
On the drive to the airport Heinz Frankel, a German Jew from Frankfurt who volunteered to work for the Mossad in 1941, said to his partner, “I was afraid for a moment that he might carefully examine the Goering letter. After all we don’t know whether our up time copy is identical to what Goering wrote this time.”
Rudi Cohen, also from Frankfurt, responded, “Nah, he was under pressure and seriously scared. After all, he knows what his friends are capable of.”
***
“General, according to the information we have…” Hans Kammler interrupted the speaker with an energetic gesture. “No generals here. Remember where we are. You might endanger the whole operation and our lives. Just ‘Hans’ will do. You were saying?”
Dr. Karl-Heinz Höcker nodded. “My apologies, Hans. According to the information we obtained from your source, it is not too complicated to make a uranium bomb. But there are several very tall obstacles to overcome. The most difficult is obtaining highly enriched uranium.”
Dr. Wilhelm Hanle agreed. “We need enormous industrial resources to achieve this goal.”
SS General Hans Kammler, former commander of the Nazi underground weapons development complex near Gusen Mauthousen, shrugged. “Gentlemen, we will have plenty of resources once we show our sponsors that we know what we’re doing. They’ve already allocated a significant amount - this building, for example.”
The scientists looked around the nicely furnished office. Finally Dr. Hanle ventured a comment. “It would be useful for us to take a look around and see exactly what we have here.”
Both scientists had been part of the Nazi Uranium group disbanded in 1942 after the notorious Diebner incident. They went back to teaching and research at their universities but were more than happy participate in this exciting new venture.
Kammler got up from behind his desk. “Good. Let’s go for a walk. We will not be able to see everything. The Swiss Industrial research Institute is quite large. We will see the main labs on the top four floors.”
After the tour Höcker asked, “Can we count on more detailed technical information from your source?”
“I’m not sure. My source can look up information and answer questions. You will need to ask the right questions.”
“How much technical staff will we have here?” Hanle wanted to know.
“I’m assuming that you want well-trained and qualified German engineers and technicians,” Kammler responded. “We have close to three hundred
here now and can recruit many more. Don’t worry about this.
“ You do have to be very careful not to let anyone outside this project even suspect what we’re doing here. As far as the locals are concerned the Institute is doing industrial research for Swiss companies, mostly connected to manufacturing improvements of watches and such. Just a bunch of Germans working for Swiss industry.”
Höcker raised his eyebrows. “So the Swiss know we’re here?”
“The Swiss are quite well-organized and informed. They know that a group of Germans is working at this place for the benefit of Swiss and German industries.”
He picked up the telephone. “Karl, can you please come in and meet some new people?”
A minute later the door opened and a man around thirty entered the room. He was slightly over six feet tall, athletic, with blonde hair and blue eyes – the embodiment of the Aryan ideal.
“Gentlemen, pleasure to meet you. I’m Lieutenant Karl Merkel, late of the SS Death Head Division.” He clicked his heels.
“Karl is our quartermaster. He will show you to your rooms and provide all the necessities. If you need any equipment just let him know.”
Both scientists nodded and shook hands with Karl.
Kammler smiled and got up, signaling the end of the meeting. “I am available most of the time. Please keep me up to date on your progress.”
***
Amos Nir relaxed. The election results were coming in and there was a marked movement to the “right” by the electorate. He had hoped for this but hadn’t counted on it and so had campaigned very hard for several months. It looked like a majority of the newcomers, who now constituted the great majority of Israel’s population, were not particularly receptive to the social justice and pacifist message of the left. The booming economy presented too many opportunities.
The American immigrants didn’t see how pacifism would make them safer, especially in view of the war just won, and wealth redistribution had only a limited appeal for them. The millions rescued from Europe were even more skeptical about a peaceful approach, although more than half of them had supported left-leaning parties in their old countries. Apparently they viewed the economic success of Israel as proof enough that the current government was best. Most of those who escaped the Soviet Union didn’t want to see or hear anything about socialism or communism.
The Prime Minister’s secretary opened the door and looked in. “Amos, the Ministers and the head of the Mossad are here.”
“Let them in.” Amos got up and welcomed the three men.
After everyone was seated around the conference table he said, “I invited you to hear an update from the Mossad. I heard some of it – It’s intriguing.” He nodded to the head of the Mossad.
“I will make this story as short as possible, so please don’t hesitate to ask questions if I miss any details. I also have to warn you that at this time some details must remain hazy to protect the operation and our operatives.
“About a year ago, when the war in Europe was winding down and the civil war in Germany was at the top of its intensity we received some strange information from Austria. The essence of it was that an SS General by the name of Hans Kammler was assembling a team of engineers and scientists. He was also recruiting former SS officers. This was highly unusual activity in the middle of a civil war. We decided to keep tabs on him. He disappeared for several months and then popped up as the head of an industrial research institute in Mauthousen.”
The Defense Minister waved his hand. “You said Mauthousen? Like the infamous concentration camp?”
“Yes, it’s also the name of the town nearby. The institute is in the town, not the camp.
“He didn’t stay there for very long. It became clear to him that the Nazis were going to lose, so he disappeared again. We got lucky last month. An allied force became aware of a group of Nazis in a Vienna suburb and, after a minor shootout, they were taken into custody. The officer that commanded the raid, an IDF lieutenant, reported to headquarters that the Nazis seemed unusually reticent under interrogation. Since we’re copied on all such reports we sent a team to Vienna.
“Our interrogation team managed to extract most, or maybe even all, of the information from members of the group. They were on their way to Switzerland. Apparently they were waiting for someone to take them to their final destination. This person was supposed to come a week after we captured them. Since the incident wasn’t reported publicly, we found an operative who fit the physical description of one of the SS officers. He met with the guide and was taken to Hans Kammler in Zug, Switzerland.
“That’s how we found out about Kammler’s new position. He’s the head of the Swiss Industrial Research Institute, in a nice area with some light industry. We also used a female operative to infiltrate the operation. She’s now the secretary for one of the scientists.”
The Foreign Minister interrupted. “Why are we so interested in this guy Kammler?”
“It started just as a matter of routine. Since in our timeline Kammler was responsible for nuclear research and since his signature was, and still is, on all sorts of technical documents - like the plans for the Auschwitz gas chambers - we consider him a person of interest. After our operative started working at the facility in Switzerland it became clear that they’re trying to develop a nuclear weapon.”
The Defense Minister asked, “What are their chances of success? They would need enormous resources to develop all the technologies needed.”
“True, but they don’t know it. And if they can steal all the information from us, the necessary resources will be significantly reduced.
“This brings me to the really interesting information. We know that a person in Israel tried to gain access to nuclear design details. His attempt triggered our alert system and we followed him very carefully. Now we know where the information - or rather, the misinformation we fed him - went. What remains to find out is how it was smuggled to Switzerland and where the Institute is getting its funds.”
***
Jacob looked at his friend Zalman Gurevich. “Why don’t you want to file a claim?”
Zalman shrugged. “The store they took from me in Lithuania wasn’t worth that much and I hate wasting time on claims and litigation.”
“My friend, you have obviously not read the government announcement very carefully. According to the terms of the peace treaty with Germany, the Germans are obligated to compensate everyone who suffered a loss of property due to their actions in the war. The only thing you need to do is file a claim. And you can do that online in five minutes.”
“Right. Sounds easy, but how do I prove that the store was taken? They made me sign a bill of sale to that Lithuanian. It was for one Reichsmark but it’s still a legitimate bill of sale.”
“I’ll tell you how. I spoke to Esther’s father, Nachman. He abandoned his property. We went online and started filling out the forms. As soon as we submitted them the site came up with a list. Nachman’s house and the warehouse where he stored his grain was there.
“The only thing he had to do was to mark the correct property and sign a declaration that he was indeed who he claimed to be. That was all. The government will present these claims with documentation they have from uptime archives and demand payment from the Germans. So don’t be stupid and submit your claim. Just don’t try cheating. If they catch you claiming property that isn’t yours, you’ll get in trouble with the police here.”
“Okay, I’ll try it.
“So how is it going with Esther? Will I get an invitation to your wedding anytime soon?”
“If it was up to me we would have been married a long time ago, but she’s stubborn and wants to finish her medical studies first. I’m working on convincing her otherwise. I promise not to forget your invitation.”
***
The Mossad team met in their Bern hotel room. The communication specialist started. “Last week we intercepted two transfers into the Institute’s bank account. One was from the Essen
, Germany, branch of the Dresdner Bank. The other transfer was from a branch of the Deutsche Bank in Mannheim. We ascertained that the account in Essen belongs to a Krupp family foundation and is, most likely, controlled by Alfried Krupp. The account in Mannheim belongs to a law office. We think that it actually disburses funds for a group of Daimler-Benz executives.”
A second operative took up the tale. “We also have the account number and pass phrase for a Nazi gold account at the Beerli bank. Our man just checked with a teller. The account is still there and the pass phrase is correct.”
The head of the team asked, “Does anyone have ideas how to proceed before I contact the home office?”
“We know that Beerli holds some funds that have been deposited by Jews. We also know that the Nazi account is big, probably close to 40% of the bank’s capital. We can use that as leverage to take over the bank. After we control the bank, we can repatriate the Jewish funds to their rightful owners even if the current owner of the bank objects. And we can cut off the Institute’s funding. We will also have copies of all the transfers to the Institute’s account and so will know with certainty who has been funding them and for what amounts.”
“You’re correct, except for who’s funding them. We already know the account numbers and banks the money comes from. The source of the money in Mannheim is still uncertain since we don’t know who controls the account there. I think that we can nail Alfried Krupp though.”
“If we have access to all the records of Beerli Bank we might also find the information we need on the Mannheim source.”
The head of the team got up. “We will meet here in three hours. I’ll speak to the main office and, if they agree, we’ll devise an operational plan.”
***
“It’s not going to be a simple undertaking.” The Finance Minister paused to check her counterparts’ reactions. The Foreign Minister nodded but clearly didn’t really understand. The intelligence representative looked openly puzzled.
“Restitution of real property or businesses confiscated by the Nazis or with their support is relatively simple. We have records for the overwhelming majority. The only difficulty will be in determining the value of what has been taken. We’re speaking of a lot of money since the properties range from a little hole in the wall store to enterprises like Leica. There’s also confiscated art and other private property, not all of which are in our uptime databases or can be located now.”
Beyond the Shield Page 36
