Goebbels lowered his head and did as he was ordered. Each of the men beside him followed suit, bending over the desk and scribbling their names on the documents.
Hitler hunched over, wincing in pain, and said, "Tell them what it says, Herr Minister."
Goebbels lifted the first page and stood straight, clearing his throat before he spoke and read the words as carefully as if he were delivering one of his radio announcements. "It says that you and your wife choose death over being captured and imprisoned and wish to be cremated."
Hitler nodded, "Go on."
"You shall donate your art collection to Linz. Any other objects of particular sentiment may be distributed to those listed on the pages below as a reward for their loyalty. All your other possessions belong to the party."
"Correct." Hitler tapped the top of a stack of papers assembled on the desk, "This is my final testament, to let the world know that I had no intention of making war on any other nation. As you all know, I was driven into this by the miserable International Jewry. It was they who brought us to this, not I. Is that made clear?" All of the men nodded, and Hitler waved for them to come closer to the desk and look at a different group of papers. "These are my instructions for the Reich. They are to be followed to the letter, without exception."
Goebbels looked down eagerly at the sheet, expecting his name to appear at the very top. Instead, there was no one named as a new Fuhrer. There was a new office called President, and the name written there was not Goebbels either. In fact, Goebbels was only listed as the Chancellor. He forced himself to smile and lowered his head, saying, "Thank you, Mein Fuhrer. You are too kind."
The rest of the men checked where their names appeared and thanked Hitler profusely, showering him with praise for his wisdom. Hitler waved them away and covered his face with a trembling hand, telling them to leave him.
They saluted him with a loud, "Seig Heil!" that he did not return.
Joseph Goebbels followed the others out of the room, listening to their inane chatter about their new positions in the Nazi party. The blithering idiots, Goebbels thought. There isn't going to be any party in a few days. We'll be lucky if there is still a Germany.
He headed for the doorway at the far end of the bunker and knocked quickly, opening it before there was a reply. There was a man bent over a dentist's chair, carefully extracting a tooth from one of the officers. "Excuse me, Herr Kunz?"
Helmut Kunz wrenched his tool with both hands, trying to rock the tooth out of its socket, and grunted, "Yes, Herr Goebbels?"
"May I speak with you a moment in private?"
Kunz picked up the hand of the officer he was operating on and placed it on the clamp, saying, "Hold this in place, just like this. The tooth is not out yet, so do not move. I will be right back." Kunz followed Goebbels into the hallway and said, "What can I do for you, Herr Minister?"
"I need to ask you a personal favor."
"Anything."
"I want you to inject all six of my children with enough morphine to render them unconscious. Once they are asleep, kill them with cyanide."
Kunz did not speak for a moment, unable to formulate anything resembling a coherent sentence in the deepest recesses of his mind. He opened his mouth and was only able to mutter the word, "What?"
Goebbels clapped him on the arm and said, "The Fuhrer and his new wife are going to kill themselves. After that happens, you are going to euthanize my little ones. My wife and I will then exit the Fuhrerbunker and kill ourselves as well." The dentist was still not able to speak and Goebbels smiled patiently at him, saying, "I'm sure you understand that I will consider this a great personal favor. I mean, I couldn't think to give them the cyanide myself. That simply wouldn't do."
The Fuhrerbunker's staff and all of their families lined up in front of the Fuhrer and his wife to say goodbye. The Goebbels children were beautiful and wide-eyed, with brilliant blonde hair done up in tight curls or brushed with immaculate precision. Eva Braun grabbed each of them in her arms and kissed them on their foreheads and told them that she loved them.
The children told her that they loved her too, and called her Aunt Eva. They told Hitler that they loved him as well and called him Uncle.
Hitler silently patted each of the children on their heads as he walked past them, but did not linger on any of them. He made his way down the rest of the line slowly, hunched over, muttering softly when he stopped to speak to someone.
Hitler and Eva waved their last goodbye to everyone in the room and then walked together into the Fuhrer's private study. Hitler pulled the heavy metal door shut behind him and said, "Finally, it is time. I have been thinking about it, and you were right. This was the only realistic conclusion. If I had stayed and fought, our supply lines would have been cut off and the Allies would have handed us over to the Jews. It is better this way."
"Thank you, Mein Fuhrer," Eva whispered. "It is my greatest honor to share this final moment of dignity with you." She looked at her watch. It was two-thirty in the afternoon.
It's time.
She took out the small white cyanide pill from its plastic container and cupped it in her palm. "I am ready, Mein Fuhrer," she said.
They sat together on the couch and Hitler took a deep breath, placing his hands on his knees as he stared at the large shelf of books directly in front of him.
"I wonder," she said, looking down at the pill in her hand, "will it really smell like almonds?"
Hitler nodded as he removed a pistol from the drawer on the table in front of him and placed it on his lap. He ran his fingers over the weapon and said, "I detest almonds."
She heard a voice calling her name from very far away. It was a man speaking, but his voice was muffled and distorted, as if they were sitting at the bottom of the lake in Berchtesgaden. The man spoke again, saying, "Eva? Wake up. Eva? Can you hear me?"
Her eyes fluttered open, focusing slowly on the naked man kneeling on the floor in front of her, shaking her awake. She groaned and tried to lift her head. "Sean? Is it done? Did it work?"
"Perfectly," he said. "I came through the wall just as he pulled the trigger. The bastard looked right at me as the bullet entered his brain. I hope he died knowing we found him."
Eva turned to see the body of Adolph Hitler slumped over on the couch beside her. Blood leaked from the bullet hole in Hitler's right temple, spilling down the sides of the couch. Pryce examined the Fuhrer's body, and said, "You did it, Eva. You actually did it."
"We did it," she whispered. Her face twisted in disgust as she looked at the body, her lips pursing to spit at him. "Burn in hell, you despicable creature."
Pryce grabbed her hand and said, "We have to go. They heard the gunshot and won't wait much longer. Can you stand? If not, it's okay, I'll carry you."
"Sean, get the file," Eva said. "It has the artifact's location." She pointed at the row of books on the shelf behind him, "It's the third one from the left, the map is hidden between the pages."
Pryce stood up and removed the book, flipping through the pages until he found a small, crudely-drawn map of Antarctica. There were hand-written coordinates scribbled in the margins. He memorized them quickly and took one long look at the map, studying it. "Do you really believe they found it?"
"He certainly seemed to think so," Eva said. She tried to stand up but her legs wobbled and gave out beneath her, sending her crashing back down to the couch. She clutched her head and said, "What the hell was in that pill? I need to rest a moment."
"It was just a powerful sedative. It will wear off," Pryce said. He started opening drawers, searching for a box of matches. He had a clear vision of the map in his mind and it wouldn't do to leave it behind. There was no way to teleport inanimate objects anyway. All the Nazis would find was a burnt pile of ash from the map and Eva's empty clothing. He found matches and struck several of them, lighting the map instantly. He let it burn in his hands until the flame got too close and then dropped it on the table, making sure the entire thing was destroye
d.
"It was one hell of a convincing sedative," Eva said. She closed her eyes and wobbled a bit, looking light she might fall over. "It even smells like almonds."
"It's just the burning paper, you'll be fine," he said.
Eva suddenly flung herself forward and she grabbed for her throat, clutching it with both hands. "God, something's wrong!" she gasped. "It wasn't a sedative. Sean! I've been poisoned!"
"What?" he said, grabbing for her. "That's impossible!"
Her eyes met his and she said, "Is that what you meant? You tried to warn me all those years ago at the lake. Sean, why did you let me take the wrong pill? You promised."
"What lake?" he said, shaking her. "Eva? Eva! Stay awake. I'll get you to the hospital and fix this. Eva!"
Eva Braun's eyes rolled into the back of her head, showing nothing but pearl white surfaces lined with red veins. Thick white foam spilled out of her mouth and her head flopped to the side.
She gurgled and twitched as Pryce grabbed her by the shoulders and tried to hold her steady, shouting, "Hang on! I'll get you out of here."
Eva Braun stopped convulsing. Her head flopped to the side and white foam spilled out from her mouth. Her final breath filled the room with the scent of burning almonds.
Pryce called her name and gave her another shake, but the door handle to the study was turning and slowly starting to open. He stepped back in horror at the sight of the dead woman, covering his mouth as hot tears spilled out of his eyes.
"Mein Fuhrer?" Joseph Goebbels said, coming into the room. It was empty except for the bodies of Hitler and his bride.
Three days later, President Harry Truman picked up the phone in the Oval Office and said, "Yes, what is it?"
The President's face stiffened as the Secret Service agent on the other end spoke, giving him the bad news. "He's at the front door?" Truman said.
Truman covered the phone with his hand and looked at the men seated around the room. His eyes twitched nervously back and forth between Wild Bill Donovan and the hunched over form of J. Edgar Hoover. "Agent Omega is here," Truman said nervously. "Apparently he walked right up to the front door and knocked like a damn tourist. What is the meaning of this, Bill?"
Donovan scratched his chin as he regarded Truman, trying to choose his words carefully. He still didn't have a feel for the new President. Truman had a slow, southern drawl that belied his Missouri roots and made him sound like a hillbilly. On top of that, dressed like a doddering high-school principal. It wasn't exactly the image of stalwart leadership Donovan had hoped for. But still, the man had shown enough guile and zeal to rise to the highest office in the land and needed to be treated carefully. Donovan smiled reassuringly and said, "I think he's showing you respect, Mr. President. He could have easily just appeared inside the office, but instead, he's presenting himself to you like a gentleman."
"Gentlemen wait for an invitation," Truman said.
J. Edgar Hoover grunted at Donovan and said, "If your boy ever shows up here uninvited again, my G-men will shoot his bare backside on sight, is that understood?"
"That would be most unfortunate," Donovan said.
"That's one way of looking at it," Hoover said.
"I meant about the loss of all those FBI agents. Omega would leave their dead bodies scattered across the front lawn like shredded paper."
"That's enough, gentlemen," the President said.
Donovan apologized and said, "Mr. President, Agent Omega just completed one of the most difficult operations the OSS has ever conducted. On top of that, he lost a very close associate in the process due to an unforeseen error. With all proper respect, I think he deserves to be let in here, so open your damn door."
Truman slowly uncovered the phone's mouthpiece and said, "It's all right. Let him in and bring him back."
Several minutes later, a parade of rubber-soled shoe squeaks filled the hallway outside of the Oval Office. The door opened and several intense looking FBI agents came into the room. Large revolvers bulged under their cheap-looking suit coats. Three of them came and stood behind the Director. Hoover turned in his seat to watch the door. No one else spoke. No one else moved.
Sean Pryce walked into the room in a hand-made suit, tailored to fit his athletic frame. His handsome features were marred only the jagged scar across his cheek. Otherwise, he might have been any one of the young attorneys or Congressional assistants walking around DC that day. The President pushed his thick-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose and stood up, smiling widely at the agent. "Mr. Omega? Agent Omega, I sure have wanted to meet you for a long time. Welcome home, boy."
"Thank you, Mr. President," Pryce said.
"What's your name son? You got a real name, don't you? It's all right, we're among friends."
"I apologize, Mr. President," Pryce said, "But my real name is six levels above your current security clearance."
Wild Bill Donovan choked slightly and the President said, "Is that right?"
J. Edgar Hoover waved his hand and said, "That's enough. Throw this mongrel out on his ear, Mr. President. He has no right to speak to you like that."
"He's following orders," Donovan said. "My orders."
"And what makes you think they hold any water around here, Donovan? You don't have FDR to protect you anymore. The war is over. America does not need a spy agency any longer. She has the FBI to protect her now."
Donovan looked at Hoover and his G-men and said, "Who is going to protect her from you, I wonder."
The President clapped his hands and said, "Enough, enough. You boys are carrying on worse than two cocks in the same hen house. Everybody take a deep breath and sit down. I, for one, would like to hear this young man's story about how old Adolph bit the dust. It's also my understanding he has a little information for us regarding the whereabouts of a particular artifact?"
Sean Pryce looked at the President and said, "I do, sir. And I'll be happy to share both with you, but first, I would like to know how my operative was given a real dose of cyanide after I explicitly ordered her to be given an inert substitute."
Director Hoover curled both hands into fists and shouted, "That is the second time I'm warning you, and there won't be a third, you spooky bastard. Show some respect when your President tells you to do something."
Truman held up his hand and said, "It's all right, J. Edgar. This young man has been through a lot on his country's behalf. I reckon he deserves that explanation."
Wild Bill Donovan looked at Pryce and said, "He'll get one. But not now, and not here. So, if you don't mind, would you please tell the President what he wants to know?"
Pryce looked past Donovan at Hoover, knowing that anything they said was probably being recorded and analyzed by the hundred agents the cross-dressing bastard had assigned to them. He could wait until they were alone to find out about Eva, but he wouldn't wait long. He looked at the President and said, "So, you'd like to hear how we finally got Hitler?"
Later that afternoon, the President, FBI Director, and William Donovan all looked down at the place on the map where Pryce's finger landed in disbelief. "The artifact is there," Pryce said.
"In Gazala?" J. Edgar Hoover whispered. "That doesn't make any sense. We intercepted communiques from the Nazis saying it was buried Antarctica."
"I guess your intelligence isn't what you think it is, J. Edgar," Truman said. He looked at the map and said, "Rommel was in Gazala. He could have buried it there. You know, I always respected that man. The Desert Fox didn't abide all that Jew-killing nonsense. What better Nazi than Rommel to entrust with a weapon that was said to possess the power to kill God Almighty?"
"If you believe that sort of thing," Donovan said.
"The entire idea is blasphemous, if you ask me," Hoover said.
Pryce looked at the men and said, "It wasn't my job to find out if it really worked, just where they hid it. That's where Adolph Hitler believed it was hidden, so that's where you should go look for it."
"Really?" J. Edgar Hoover sai
d. "And why is that? Because some treacherous whore said so? The Furhrerwhore who spent all that time sleeping with the most despicable villain the world has ever known?"
Pryce's eyes turned cold as he looked at the FBI Director. Donovan discreetly put his hand on the agent's sleeve, silently praying that they weren't about to watch Pryce rip the other man's beating heart out of his chest. Instead, Pryce said, "That is what she said after committing all those acts on our behalf. Right before she was poisoned by the people who employed her to commit them. Correct."
"I suppose when one lies down with dogs, one should not be surprised to wake up with fleas," Hoover said, smiling thinly. "In this case, I heard she did quite a bit of lying down."
"Is that what you heard, Director Hoover?" Pryce said. "It's funny what you hear about people. I happened to hear a story about someone named Clyde Tolsen you might find interesting. It involves you, actually."
"Omega! That is enough!" Donovan shouted. J. Edgar Hoover's entire face was purple and quivering with rage. Donovan said, "Gentlemen, I apologize, but I really need to take my agent back to OSS headquarters for a full debrief. Good day."
Donovan dragged Pryce down the hall, away from the Oval Office, trying to get as far and as fast as he could. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Sean? Hoover is on the verge of having us shut down and that hillbilly in there is dumb enough to let him do it! They're going to put the entire country under surveillance, and we're the only thing that can stop them."
Pryce stopped walking at the bust of Alexander Hamilton and glared at his mentor, his only friend, and said, "Why, Bill? Why did you kill her?"
Donovan took a deep breath and said, "Do you really think I would do that?"
"Yes. Did you? Tell me the truth, Bill. I won't hurt you, I promise. I just need to know why."
Donovan looked Pryce straight in the eye and said, "I had nothing to do with it and I don't know who did. If I had to guess, it was Hitler himself."
"How could he have known?" Pryce said.
"He probably didn't trust the cyanide they gave him in the first place, Sean. This is a man who killed his own dog with one of the pills just to test it. I think he switched Eva's pills with one he knew would work."
Agent Omega: You Only Live Forever Page 8
