by Bobby Akart
“Will it then dissolve?” asked Eichmann.
“Nein, Obersturmbannführer. It is miscible.”
“Miscible?” asked Himmler.
“Similar to mixing,” replied Mengele, who was fascinated by the conversation. “Like ethanol and water.”
“You applied this sarin to the sponges?” asked Eichmann.
“Yes, ObersturmbannFührer. Some chemical weapons kill not just if they are inhaled but if they’re absorbed through the skin as well. For many chemicals, simply washing off exposed skin with soap and water will suffice to decontaminate the area. Not so with sarin.”
“There are many other methods of delivery,” interjected Mengele. “In addition to water, aerosol sprays can create a vapor or gas, or a liquid spray can be released into the outside for a larger target. It can also contaminate food.”
Eichmann furrowed his brow as he considered this information. He turned back to Dr. Blome. “How fast does it work?”
“It is the most toxic and deadliest of nerve agents. Even slight exposure to the skin, such as a single milliliter, can cause death in minutes.”
“How? How do they die?” Eichmann was insistent on knowing the pain that would be caused.
“Sarin interferes with the body’s central nervous system. It specifically targets the neuromuscular junctions where nerves meet muscles. The result is the body immediately begins to convulse. The muscles that control breathing become paralyzed, and the person dies of asphyxiation.”
“Good,” muttered Eichmann, an odd but sadistic response.
Himmler, like the others, stared at Dr. Blome throughout the questioning. “As I understand it, you have already reached the required amount of production for the September 15 deadline. Next, please focus on the raw nerve agent for use in aerosol containers. Contact SS-WVHA for your needs. They will not delay you.”
“Yes, Reichsführer Himmler. Anything else?”
Mengele stood and rubbed his hands together. “We want to see it work.”
Chapter Nineteen
September 1944
Oslo, Norway
By September 1944, the German Army was in dire straits. German panzers were mired in a month-long struggle with General Patton’s Third Army. The Soviet Red Army had begun its invasion of East Prussia, driving German forces back toward the center of the country. The British Eighth Army was bringing the Axis power to its knees in Italy. And Himmler’s most trusted field general, Erwin Rommel, had been charged as a co-conspirator in the failed Operation Valkyrie assassination plot.
Himmler still held out hope for victory, and Project Tabun was the best possible means to drastically change the course of the war. However, the first stage of the attack on the Allies was not going to be undertaken until mid-November, based upon the schedule he’d established. He was beginning to fear for the safety of the children he’d fathered. In short, his legacy was at risk.
Himmler was married, having met his wife, Margarete Boden, in 1927. After their marriage, they had a daughter, Gudrun, and fostered a young boy, Gerhard, whose father, an SS officer, had died before the war. Himmler and Margarete were estranged but never divorced. The stress of his duties within the Reich took its toll on their marriage, as well as an illicit affair with his secretary Hedwig Potthast, with whom he also had two children.
They were all provided for by the Reich, but they were not loved like the two Jorgenson sisters and his Norwegian children by them. As Himmler began to feel the walls closing in, he implemented his own plan of protection under Odessa.
In August, both sisters had given birth to healthy baby boys within a few days of each other. They were barely six weeks old when Himmler hastily had them gathered up from their homes and brought to the airport in Oslo, Norway.
The facility, seized by the German Army years prior, still operated some commercial flights via KLM airlines to destinations like Iceland and Italy. Any point in between was too precarious, as all aircraft were at risk of being shot down by anti-aircraft fire or Allied jet fighters.
Himmler had spent the night with each of them and explained his plans for them. They were both distraught about leaving their beloved Norway, but they also understood they would be in grave danger if invading Allied forces learned of their relationship to Himmler. They were convinced their children by him would be taken away forever.
One sister, Inge, would fly on a Douglas DC-3 aircraft to Reykjavik, Iceland. Then she would fly into Canada and eventually land in New York to emigrate into the U.S. as a Norwegian citizen through Ellis Island.
The other sister, Brit, would leave for Rome, where she would catch a Pan American flight to Mallard Field in Dakar, Senegal, before being sent across the South Atlantic to Buenos Aries, Argentina. Both women would be accompanied by female SS offices who were old enough to be their mothers. These matronly women, flying under false credentials, would assist the women in getting settled into their new homes.
Inge understood this might be the last time she’d see Himmler unless he was able to successfully send for her later. Brit was assured he would follow her to South America when the time was right. Both women understood one thing. They were to raise their children in the ideology adopted by the Reich, and the four young men would be taught the greatness of their father. As would their children and their children’s children.
Awaiting them was access to vast amounts of wealth stolen by the Nazis as they ravaged Europe and Northern Africa. Using numbered accounts at Swiss banks, UBS, and to a lesser extent Credit Suisse, the Nazis successfully transferred Jewish capital out of Germany and the nations it had occupied. In essence, Switzerland had laundered hundreds of millions of dollars in stolen assets, including gold taken from the central banks of occupied Europe.
Even after the end of the war, Switzerland successfully resisted Allied calls to return the funds, allowing the Nazis, and their families, continuous access. The Jorgensen sisters, the daughters of a Norwegian banker and accountants by trade, were fully versed in the financial holdings of Himmler. They were also fiercely loyal to the father of their children and the Nazi ideology he’d instilled in them.
That drab, gray afternoon in Oslo was a sad one for Himmler. He loved both women equally and longed to be with them from the moment their flights took off in separate directions. He vowed to join them through the Odessa network he’d established, but first, there was important work to be done.
Chapter Twenty
Aboard the Victory Casino Cruise Ship
One Hundred Miles East of Carvajal, Tamaulipas, Mexico
Gulf of Mexico
“It’s go-time,” whispered Gunner into the comms as he moved quickly down the hallway and into the main casino. The slot machines and elaborate video gaming machines stood waiting for gamblers, but nobody was there to play. The gaming tables appeared to be in the exact same condition as when the passengers left. Two blackjack dealers lay dead on the emerald green carpet.
“I wanna see this Abduwali asshole for myself,” added Cam.
Gunner led the way up a wide spiral staircase leading to the fourth deck. He arrived in the center of the VIP lounge and dedicated casino. He searched for a target, and one of the pirates gladly obliged. The man was startled by Gunner’s sudden presence and hesitated for just a second. It was a second too long. Gunner fired two rounds into the man’s chest and one through the underside of his jaw as he was falling backwards.
“Four,” he calmly reported.
“Clear,” said Cam, who’d peeled off toward the bow. She exhaled out of frustration. “Where is everybody?”
“Clear, aft.” Gunner had checked every hiding spot toward the rear of the casino and then responded. “My guess is down below guarding the passengers and crew. I can’t imagine this Abduwali has any hostages with him unless—”
“What?” asked Cam.
Gunner ignored her question. “Ghost, has Abduwali provided proof of life?”
Jackal responded, “Yes. Jenna Larkin, the daughter, as well as
her aunt Donna and cousin Sofia.”
“When?”
“Ten minutes ago, when he threatened to start killing hostages,” she replied.
He turned to Cam. “He’s got his high-value hostages nearby. Probably in the captain’s quarters, which are down the hall from the bridge.”
“I’m thinking two guards on the women plus two on the bridge, plus our Somalian.”
“Probably leaving two per deck on the first and second levels,” surmised Gunner. “Let’s take out the head of the snake and then mop up the rest.”
“Lead the way,” said Cam, nodding toward another spiral staircase leading to the top of the ship.
The top deck was far more complicated to clear than the other levels. Unlike the casino levels, which were wide open and easy to view from one end to the other, the top deck was broken up into an outdoor lounging area, several tiki-style bars, and the ship’s administration center, consisting of the captain’s quarters, offices, communications, and the bridge. The foredeck also provided places to hide between the satellite dishes, utility storage boxes, and bench seating surrounding fixed tables attached to the deck.
Gunner checked his watch. “We’ve gotta split up. I’ll take the bow.”
“Roger that,” said Cam, who was off in a flash. She was the first to fire. One of the pirates was patrolling the rear sundeck while trying to cover his face from the wind-driven rain pelting him. She killed him with two shots to the back of his head.
“Five.”
Gunner took a deep breath and moved toward the bow in a low crouch as he crossed past the bridge. He wanted desperately to take a look inside. Based upon the shattered glass covering the promenade deck and the bullet holes stitching the bridge, he expected to find several dead bodies. But first, he needed to clear the foredeck.
He rose from his crouch and moved quickly toward a solitary target standing under the canopy of the bridge. The pirate was inches away from the lone glass panel that hadn’t been obliterated by bullets. Gunner took a chance and rose to look inside the bridge.
It was empty.
Without hesitation, he drilled three rounds into the pirate’s chest and head. The sound of his body hitting the deck was obscured by the clap of thunder in the distance.
“Six, KIA.”
“Moving into the superstructure,” Cam whispered into the comms.
“I’m headed into the bridge. It appears deserted.”
“Two minutes, guys,” interrupted Jackal.
Gunner checked the digital clock in his helmet. He made his way to a door that led from the promenade into the bridge.
“Roger,” the two operatives replied in unison.
Gunner entered the bridge. As expected, several bodies littered the floor. He focused on his footing, as the sticky blood was now mixed with rain coming through the blown-out windows.
“I’ve got movement,” said Cam. “Two hostiles, each forcing a passenger down the center hallway.”
“Heading your way.”
Gunner moved quickly down the hall leading from the bridge to the center of the ship. As he moved, he glanced at the mounted plaques identifying the rooms on both sides of him. As they’d learned from studying the deck plan, the captain’s quarters and office were all self-contained in this area.
The pirates came into view. One of them was holding a rifle in his left hand as he ran his fingers through the young girl’s hair.
“Removing my helmet,” whispered Cam. “I’ll be without comms for a minute.”
“Negative!” shouted Ghost into the comms.
“Sir, if I don’t, I’ll scare the shit out of these hostages and they’ll give us away.”
“She’s right. Cam, I’ve got the hostiles. You get to the hostages so they don’t freak.”
“In position. Out.”
Gunner flipped off his NVG lenses as he moved closer to the pirates, using the dim ambient light from the emergency exit signs for illumination. He’d noticed a light switch up ahead. He hoped his hunch was right.
As he moved past the switch, he raised his rifle and steadied it on his first target. With his left hand, he flipped the lights on. The four single light bulbs, protected by galvanized guards, immediately illuminated the hallway. The pirates froze, and then they died. The bullets ripped into the thickest part of their backs and embedded in their chest cavities. Gunner’s shots were perfectly placed to keep from going through-and-through and inadvertently striking a hostage.
Cam suddenly appeared and immediately raised her fingers to her lips. “Shhh! Quiet, okay? We’re here to save you.”
The man and woman immediately hugged one another before they fell into the wall from mental and physical exhaustion.
Gunner turned around and monitored the doors on both sides of the hallway. He walked backwards, his rifle swinging from right to left, until he joined Cam and the two hostages.
“Where are the others?” Cam asked.
The husband responded, “Captain Garland, the African man, and three women are in his office. These two were going to kill us.” He pointed at the dead pirates.
Cam motioned for them to follow her into the top-level atrium where the spiral staircase and elevator were found. “What about the other passengers?”
“We’ve all been locked in our rooms. I think the crew has been kept in their quarters, too.”
Gunner continued to watch the hallway for activity. “Cam, by my count, we’re eight down, five to go.”
She nodded. “Three are probably right down the hall, and the other two are trying to watch a hundred passengers and crew on the lower levels.”
“One per floor,” said Gunner. He turned to the couple, who recoiled at the sight of his Devtac helmet. His muffled voice sounded electronic and robotic. “Do you know if anyone was in the captain’s bedroom?”
“Not now,” replied the husband. He pointed to the dead bodies in the hallway. “Those two men brought us from our quarters and held us at gunpoint until the African came in through a connecting door. He spoke to them in broken English, and they immediately dragged us out of the room. Then you showed up.”
“Were they really going to kill us?” his wife asked.
Gunner ignored her question. “I want you two to find a place to hide. Don’t come out until we give you the all clear, okay?”
“Yes, sir,” the husband responded. He grabbed his wife by the hand and led her through the atrium to the back of a bar.
Cam put her helmet back on and checked her comms.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“Let’s hit ’em through the connecting door. I remember seeing it on the ship’s blueprints downloaded by Jackal.”
“Yeah, I like it.”
“Yep, burst in and call it a day, almost, anyway.”
“We’ll have the last two to mop up,” added Cam.
Ghost intervened to put a damper on their cavalier attitudes. “Close quarters, people. You’ve got three innocents, including a congressman’s daughter, to consider.”
“We’ve got this, boss,” replied Cam. She slapped Gunner on the shoulder and led the way up the hallway. Gunner flipped off the lights again, and both operatives switched to night vision. While he covered Cam, she carefully turned the door handle and quietly slipped into the captain’s quarters.
A stroke of luck benefitted their plan. One of the pirates was standing over the urinal in the head, relieving himself. Cam and Gunner circled around the bedroom to flank the door. A gust of wind struck the side of the ship, causing the man to lose his balance momentarily. It also allowed Gunner to whisper his instructions to Cam without being detected.
“You kill; I’ll catch.”
“Roger,” she whispered back.
Gunner got into position. Just as the man started to zip up his zipper, Cam plugged him in the temple, blasting brain matter all over the glass shower door.
As the man began to fall to the floor, Gunner reached under both armpits and arrested his fall.
>
“Easy does it, asshole. I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”
Cam stifled a giggle. “You can’t be funny.”
“I’m funnier than Bear.”
“I heard that.” The baritone voice could barely be heard over the wailing of wind in the background. He was on his way to extract the two operatives.
“Let’s go, you two,” said Ghost. “Abduwali is expecting a phone call from Lloyd’s any minute.”
Gunner led the way to the connecting door. He reached for the stainless-steel knob and confirmed it locked from his side. It opened inward toward the captain’s office, allowing them to burst in.
He had his hand on the knob, ready to turn it, when the phone in the captain’s office rang.
“Speak!” the man yelled into the phone. It was the Somalian.
“Ready?” asked Gunner.
“I’ll take the guard,” Cam whispered. “Move.”
Gunner slammed the door open and moved left into the room. Cam was as fast as lightning as she wheeled in behind him and quickly placed two kill shots into the pirate’s forehead.
The trio of women began to scream.
Abduwali dropped the phone, scooped up his pistol off the desk, and jumped behind a chair where Jenna Larkin was tied up.
“I will kill the congressman’s daughter! I will absolutely kill her. Do not doubt me on this!”
Gunner kept his rifle pointed at Abduwali, hoping to get an opening. His hands were steady, and to her credit, Jenna Larkin froze and remained still.
“I hate the Yankees,” growled Gunner.
The odd statement caught Abduwali off guard. Subconsciously, his eyes avoided Gunner’s stare and looked up to the bill of his New York Yankees baseball cap. That was the last thing he saw as a bullet ripped through the bridge of his nose and exploded out of the back of his head, killing him instantly.
Cam rushed to untie the women and calm them down. As she did, she reported in to the Den.
