by Greig Beck
The remaining guard was waiting for them, and swung to them with his handgun up.
“Down!” Maddock yelled.
Bullets flew and Matt dived to the side. Maddock threw himself forward, also firing. He was faster by a quantum and a lot more accurate, and he hit the guard in the meat of the bicep. The man was spun around and his weapon flew from his deadened hand as he hit the ground.
Maddock went and placed a foot on the guard’s wrist who glared defiantly up at the HAWC. He half turned to Matt.
“Translate for me.” The HAWC stared back down at the man. “Do you want to live?”
Matt translated into perfect German. But the man’s lips pressed shut and just continued to deliver his incendiary glare. Matt bet if he could he would have killed Maddock a dozen times over in the worst ways known to mankind.
“I don’t have time for this.” The HAWC team leader lifted his gun and shot the man in the other bicep. He spoke to Matt over his shoulder.
“Repeat.”
“Do you want to live?” Matt repeated again in German, but the guard just emitted a strained but furious growl.
“Not much work for security guards in a wheelchair.” Maddock pointed the gun at his knee.
“Wait.” Through gritted teeth the guard nodded once. It had obviously dawned on him that his wages weren’t worth permanent disability or a death sentence.
“Can the room be opened from out here?” Maddock moved the muzzle of his gun to point at the man’s groin.
“Nein,” the man hissed and closed his eyes.
The HAWC fired a shot between the man’s legs, nicking the material of his pants but not the flesh.
“Nein, nein,” the man yelled.
“I believe you.” Maddock quickly cuffed him and then taped his eyes and mouth. The HAWC then stood and turned, lifting his chin.
“I know you can hear us, Herr Rudolph Schneider. You are probably thinking right now that you are safe, and the authorities are coming to rescue you. I assure you, they are not.”
Behind them Vin and Klara entered the room, and nodded to him. Maddock turned back to the sealed door. “All your guards have been neutralized, and your communications are down. It’s just you and us now.”
Matt repeated the words in German.
From a speaker overhead they got their reply, in English. “I care not, I have stored supplies for a month. Do you have that much patience? I think not.”
“No.” Maddock smiled. “Not that much patience. But we do have cutting tools and just enough time to pry you out of your steel box like a pearl from an oyster.”
“Who are you?” Schneider asked.
“People who don’t want to hurt you,” Matt said. “We don’t even want you, just something that you have in your possession. And we’ll return it after we’ve studied it.”
“So, you are criminals or terrorists, and I do not negotiate with either.” Schneider snorted. “See you in a month.”
Maddock turned to Vin. “Cut him out.”
“On it.” Vin exited the room.
*
The young HAWC knew he had to move quickly. Though they had taken out the guards and also disabled the compound’s communications, Schneider being offline for any period of time would raise red flags somewhere.
But the thing about safe rooms or panic rooms, and any vault-like space designed as a siege shelter for human beings, was they always had one wall a little weaker than the rest in the event that the occupier became incapacitated and needed to be retrieved.
Vin counted paces along the hallway. He stopped, took off his bulky backpack and removed a series of metal poles, clear tubes, boxes and electronics. He set to assembling something on a tripod. It was a steel box, glass tubes, and a series of lenses. Then he attached several steel pipes to the front.
The finished product looked like some sort of futuristic tripod mounted gun. He switched it on, and the insides lit up. He spoke into his mic.
“Cutting … now.”
A beam of thin red light was emitted from the front and struck the wall; it smoked and a tiny flame appeared before it burrowed into the panels. He already knew the paint, plaster, and wood paneling was only an inch thick, and behind it was the armored steel. Everywhere else the shielding was two inches thick, but his earlier soundings had told him that here was the weak point.
He hummed as he gradually moved the beam in a line along the wall.
*
Maddock smiled after receiving Vin’s message. He put his hands on his hips and lifted his chin once again.
“So, Herr Schneider, I would suggest you move away from the center of the room, so as not to be cut in half by our laser. The one that is now opening the western wall of your steel box.”
Maddock turned about for a moment. “Your opportunity to negotiate as equals is rapidly deserting you.”
Matt shook his head. “Herr Schneider, I assure you, we mean you no harm. We just want the diary.”
“The … diary?”
Matt turned back to the hidden speaker. “Yes, Hitler’s diary that we know you purchased over ten years ago from a local auction house. We know you have it. There is something in it we need to see.”
Matt waited but there was nothing but silence. “Please, Herr Schneider, negotiate while you still have something to negotiate with.”
“The diary contains nothing but fairy tales. Made-up stories by a great man under enormous pressure,” Schneider replied.
“Probably, but I must read it. Sir, work with us, before you are forced to, and it all gets … messy,” Matt implored.
“Whom am I speaking with?” Schneider’s voice was quiet.
“Don’t,” Maddock ordered Matt.
Matt turned away. “I’m just a scholar searching for the truth. We believe that the diary might hold answers to some deadly events taking place right now, globally.”
“The plagues, yes?” Schneider asked. “And if it doesn’t?”
“Then it doesn’t,” Matt replied. “We all go home.”
“If you stop your cutting, I will speak to you, Professor, and you alone. But I will not come out.” Schneider sounded resolute.
Maddock looked up at the speaker briefly, and then to Matt. He nodded once. He then pressed the mic stud at his ear, and from outside they heard Vin’s laser cutter shut off.
Maddock turned to Klara. “Let’s go.” He turned to Matt. “You’ve got five minutes.” The pair went to step out of the room, but Maddock paused. “If anything happens to my man, then for you, Herr Schneider, it will be extremely painful.” They stepped out of the room and shut the door.
Matt looked up at the speaker. “Okay, we’re alone. Where’s the diary?”
“Stand back please,” Schneider said.
There came the whine of hydraulics and then the floor to one side of the room started to drop, cascading down to form a set of steps. Matt went to the top and stared down as lights came on.
“It’s my private gallery,” the German billionaire said.
Matt went down, and was followed by Schneider’s voice, guiding him. As he reached the bottom, spotlights came on all around the large room.
“Oh wow,” Matt whispered as he let his eyes run over the magnificent artifacts – on a tiny plinth there was a battered silver ring, there were German uniforms, medals, bars of gold pressed with the iron eagle symbol. There were hundreds of pieces. There was also an entire wall filled with items associated with Adolf Hitler. Matt had a creeping feeling that Schneider was a bit of a fan.
“What the …?” Matt stopped in his tracks as he saw what was under a sealed bell jar. “You have got to be kidding me.” He shook his head.
“Oh, I assure you it’s real,” Schneider said with a smirk in his voice.
There was a red velvet chair pulled up in front of it, as if someone had been sitting there simply gazing at the object.
Matt knew Schneider was watching him somehow, and he stepped closer to the container. The thing made him feel
a little squeamish – not so much by what it was, but who it was.
Under the glass dome was a mummified head, grayish-brown hair was parted on one side and small bristling toothbrush mustache was under the flaking skinned nose.
“Adolphus Hitler, Führer und Reichskanzler of the Nationalsozialistische Deutsche Arbeiterpartei, and once almost ruler of the entire world.” Schneider sounded triumphant.
Matt leaned forward, staring into the desiccated face. The eyes were half lidded.
“I thought Hitler and Eva Braun’s bodies were both burned up,” Matt said. “After they committed suicide in the bunker.”
“Shot, hung, burned, but not destroyed,” Schneider replied reverently. “Toward the end of the war Hitler embarked on a voyage of the supernatural world. Whatever he was doing imbued him with significant, how shall we call it, staying power. They say he had to be beheaded before they thought he was truly dead.”
“They thought?” Matt reached out to lay a finger against the glass. It was freezing. “You’re keeping him – it – cold,” he said.
“Yes, he prefer –” A clearing of the throat. “It slows down decomposition,” Schneider replied.
Matt squinted in at the half-lidded eyes, and he could just make out that the sclera were still white and not shrunken back at all. He shivered slightly as he looked at the ghastly head.
Please don’t open your eyes, he prayed.
“I bought him from the Russians. It cost me ten million euros in gold bars. A bargain, I think,” Schneider cooed.
“Yeah, right, bargain.” Matt backed up a step, wiping his hands on his pants and feeling a little unclean. He looked about. “The diary?”
“In the long glass case to your left.”
Matt saw the small red leather book immediately. He went to it, carefully opening the cabinet’s lid and reaching in.
“You should really be wearing gloves. That item is unique.” Schneider sniffed.
“I know, sorry.” Matt started to flick through the pages, checking its authenticity.
“I could lock you in, you know. Your friends would never get to you.” Schneider’s voice became crafty.
Matt looked up to where the voice floated from. “But they’d get to you, and believe me, you wouldn’t like that. They can be very … brutal. Is that the sort of trade you’d like?”
There was silence for a few moments, and then: “I will not be expecting a receipt.”
Matt held the diary up, satisfied with it bona fides. He was about to head up the steps when he paused. He looked around, quickly scanning the shelves, cabinets and walls.
“Hey, one more thing … did you ever find the stone?”
Schneider snorted. “The aussterben steins? Like I said, the diary is a book full of fanciful dreams. So, no, I didn’t even bother looking for something that was probably never real to begin with.”
Matt mentally translated his reference – the aussterben steins: the extinction stones. Same as what Megan had said, he thought.
“Okay, fine.”
“Professor,” Schneider whispered.
Matt paused.
“I think you are a believer, yes, Professor?”
Matt nodded.
Schneider sighed. “Then I wish we could have met under different circumstances.”
Matt reached the top of the steps and the gallery entrance began to close. He looked up. “I’m also sorry we had to meet this way. One more thing, Herr Schneider. Please don’t come looking for us – these guys play for keeps.” Matt headed out into the hallway.
“Of course,” Schneider whispered. “But it is a small world, is it not, my friend?”
Matt paused, looking back at the speaker. He was sure there was amusement in Schneider’s words.
He found Maddock, Klara and Vin waiting for him outside the room. He waved the small red leather book at them. “Got it.”
Maddock snorted and held out a hand.
“Damn.” Vin slapped a fifty-dollar note into it.
“Never doubted you for a second, Professor,” he said to Matt and waved them on.
The group traced their steps back to where they came in over the wall, and collected their hardware as they went.
Outside, Matt jogged beside Maddock through the dark forest-like park. “Like you planned, all over in under two hours. What now? Head home?”
The HAWC team leader turned to him and half smiled. “Our job is far from done just yet, Professor.”
“Huh? We got the diary,” Matt replied.
Maddock bobbed his head. “It’s like this: you walk into the hardware store to buy a shovel. Is it really the shovel you want?”
Matt frowned, but then got it. “No, no, it’s not. It’s a hole I really want. The shovel is just a way to get there.”
“Correct.” Maddock smiled.
Matt half smiled. “We have the diary, but need to use it to find the missing stone, right?”
“That’s my orders. We’ll leave the base and head somewhere secure while you work out where we need to go to find that stone. Nothing else matters right now.” Maddock faced front and lifted his speed a little.
“And if I can’t?” Matt tried to keep pace, but struggled.
“You will, Professor. I have great faith in you.” He looked over his shoulder. “Plus I have another fifty riding on it.” The man continued to power ahead.
*
Rudolph Schneider had exited his safe room and now sat at a console desk that had a wall of screens in front of it. He hummed a stirring Wagnerian tune as he accessed the Interpol global search engine.
Schneider had friends in high places. He also had them in low places. And one of them had sold him the Interpol-protected password used by the Kommando Spezialkräfte, the German Special Forces.
After the group of intruders had left, he had seen the bodies of his guards laid out in the living room on his internal monitors. He sighed and let his mind work for a moment.
He then stood and crossed to his man still bound and gagged on the floor, bleeding from twin wounds in each shoulder. He ripped the tape from his mouth.
“Ah, Bruda, a bad day.”
“Sorry, sir, they were too quick.” Bruda grimaced from the pain, and his face was already pale from blood loss.
Schneider used a finger to pull back the material of the man’s shirt to examine the wound. “Nine millimeter, Glock, I think.”
He eased back. “All the others are dead. What do you think we should do?”
“Police. Stop them from leaving.” Bruda grimaced.
Schneider grunted and got to his feet. He opened a desk drawer and searched through his gun collection, selecting a Glock. He took the weapon back to Bruda and pointed it at his forehead.
“Wrong answer.”
He shot the guard dead.
“Failure is not tolerated in the new order.”
He replaced the gun in his desk and sat down. He’d use another of his black book contacts to call in a team of cleaners to tend to the removal of the bodies. No trace of them would ever be found, and no questions ever asked. After all, the last thing Schneider wanted was to be queried on why the group had targeted him.
Schneider used the recordings of the four intruders to search global audio files. As expected, the soldiers came up blank. But he got an immediate hit on the academic.
He sat back and read the file: Matthew Kearns, professor of paleo linguistics at Harvard university. He read the personal profile, found his home address, phone numbers, and even his social media data.
“You’re a believer indeed, Professor. And an intelligent one, I see.” He nodded. “You may just get the job done for us, this time.”
Schneider had searched for the aussterben steins for many years. He’d told Professor Kearns that he thought they were a fantasy. But he had always suspected they were real. And now it seemed the Americans had some sort of new lead.
Schneider steepled his fingers under his chin, as he thought through his plan. He’d expe
nded millions of euros and many years on a fruitless search. But now he had a team that would do it for him, and for free.
He grinned as he logged into another application. A global map showed a small red dot moving fast out of Germany. The tracker he had inserted in the diary when he acquired it would allow him to follow this team anywhere, as they chased down their lead to the missing stones.
He briefly glanced again at the rapidly cooling bodies of his guards, and shrugged. “Worth it.”
Schneider then hit a few keys on the console, and the floor began to drop again. Downstairs he crossed to the west wall to press a hidden stud. A panel slid back revealing a screen that showed the world map. Small lights highlighted major cities and readouts displayed their populations.
There was a countdown clock set into the bottom that was nearing zero. Schneider smiled and nodded.
“The great extermination is almost upon us. But we must help it along to ensure it is fully successful.” He turned to the bell jar with the mummified head inside. “And we must also ensure that the right people survive to rebuild.”
He smiled as he seemed to listen, and then turned back to the screen, tracing a hand down along the east coast of America. “I agree. Our problem before was our exterminations were small-scale and artificial. So now we will leave the job to the expert – nature.”
Schneider crossed to the bell jar, lowered his head in a small bow, and then went to one knee. “And I have great news, mein Führer. It seems the Americans can lead us to the stones.”
He looked up into the flaking face. “They thought the thousand-year Reich would come to an end, but your disappearance was a mere bump in the road to your plans being enacted. We will rebuild a world in your image. This time, unbound.”
Schneider’s face lit up. “Thank you, my master. It is my honor to serve you.” He then stood ramrod straight, and lifted an arm, hand flat. “Seig heil, Seig heil, Seig heil.”
In front of him, the ghastly head remained impassive.
CHAPTER 15
Matt sat with the diary open and a bright light shining down on it. He moved through the small pages that were filled with the Führer’s ideas, jottings, drawings, doodles, and, on one page, even a flowery poem he had written to Eva Braun.
