by Mark Donahue
The bars that weren’t discarded were set six feet to Dr. Martin’s right. As his men continued their analysis, stacking, and disposal regimen, Colonel Green approached Dr. Martin. “My dear Dr. Martin, it appears you are confused by our actions. It’s very simple, really—the vast majority of the bars your men found last night were nothing more than lead bars painted gold. You were fooled, Doctor. Fooled by a man named J.T. and a young woman who allows me to call her Sam. Doctor, your men tested the wrong bars. Your euphoria and gold lust led to an erroneous conclusion. However, I thought you would like to see what it is you have apparently spent decades looking for.” Colonel Green then nodded to one of his men.
With military efficiency, Colonel Green’s men began their performance by sliding a piece of one-inch steel measuring 12 inches by 14 inches over the edge of the pit. In less two minutes, three of men using eight-pound sledgehammers had completely broken down the wall, tossing the remnants into the pit.
As what was behind the wall was revealed, Dr. Martin’s eyes widened, and he stood at his seat in awe. “Ah, there it is. How lovely. How clever Rolle was.” Dr. Martin also began to laugh and cry at the same time.
With Dr. Martin watching every move, Colonel Green’s men, using reinforced electric handcarts, moved over 17,000 gold bars and four barrels from behind the wall into the back of the six heavy-duty trucks, each capable of carrying 80,000 pounds. It took less than an hour.
As each handcart moved past Dr. Martin, he gazed longingly, his tears never abated.
After their doors were shut, the trucks again roared to life, and within minutes, left the Jasper in deafening silence.
Dr. Martin had returned to his seat and sat with his shoulders stooped, looking at the now nearly empty space behind the wall. Then his eyes caught something in the corner of the space. It was gray-green. At first he didn’t realize what he was looking at. After several moments, he had a question. “Colonel Green, would you indulge an old man one favor?”
Seeing what Dr. Martin was looking at, the colonel nodded.
Dr. Martin slowly walked over the steel plate and moved to the very back of the area behind the pit. There he picked up a gray-green uniform. It was very large. He brought the uniform to his face and inhaled the dust that embedded it. “Willy, my dear Willy.”
For several moments, Dr. Martin stroked the cloth and held it to his chest.
“Thank you, Colonel. Your indulgence is greatly appreciated.” Then without hesitation, Dr. Martin walked into the pit. He made no sound as he bounced off the rubble that tore and broke his body on its journey.
Chapter 69
Ben’s House—Phoenix
After the gold had been unloaded into the underground bunker that Ben had constructed on his ranch, Ben, Sam, Tom, and Jon stood among the colonel’s troops, shaking their hands.
“Did you retain the number of bars we had agreed to, Colonel Green?” Ben asked.
“It is better that all the gold be returned to those who lost everything. My men and I will be eternally grateful for what you and your team have decided to do. It is an honor to assist all of you. It is time for reparations. But beware, Dr. Martin is not alone. Others will follow and try to find what you have. What you have in the ground is their Fourth Reich. They know the gold exists and will stop at nothing to possess it.”
Chapter 70
Inside the Gulfstream 550—Two Weeks Later
It was, admittedly, a bit cruel, but Tom, Ben, and Sam knew it had to be done. After all, Jon had been whining for days when he heard of the cross-country trip in Ben’s Gulfstream 550 to visit their first “client.” “I really don’t like to fly,” he had said about a hundred times leading up to the trip.
“Yeah, we get it,” Tom said. “But just have a few glasses of wine, go to sleep, and Ben and Sam will try to avoid the Rocky Mountains.”
As soon as Jon nodded off, Sam pulled out a half dozen perfect replica toy rattlesnakes. She paid extra for the battery-powered ones that rattled. She placed a couple of them on the seat next to Jon and a few more at his feet.
The sound Jon made when he woke up and first heard then saw the plastic reptiles was almost ethereal. Certainly not the sound that would come out of a grown man. To his credit, he did not jump from the jet. Nor did he even acknowledge that the incident occurred. Once he was sure the snakes were just toys, he put them into a storage bin and came up to the cockpit.
“Hi Jon, how’d you sleep?” Sam asked.
“Oh fine. Feel like a new man.”
“That’s a refreshing thought.” Sam said.
Jon mumbled something obscene that Sam could not hear, returned to the passenger compartment, and took a seat next to Tom. Tom did not acknowledge Jon and continued to pore over what looked to be old documents with the State of Arizona seal at the top of each page. “What-cha reading?” Jon asked.
“Just looking at some interesting ownership records of mines in Arizona and comparing them to some of the things I read in Lester’s diary about gold shipments during the war. And I found other records on the internet about rumored gold shipments during the war that sound like what we found.
“So what’s the problem?”
“Well, there are a lot discrepancies in what Lester said was delivered to the Jasper and other accounts about gold being taken from Germany and delivered to the US. In fact, the descriptions I’ve read based on supposed eyewitness accounts don’t match up in terms of the amount or even the location. I mean it doesn’t sound like the Jasper.”
“Let me see.” Jon took a stack of papers Tom and been reading and began perusing them. “Says here that over 150 tons of gold and silver bullion and coins were taken from Germany then delivered to the U.S. through Mexico. It claims the gold and silver was stored in a mine in Arizona.” Jon said.
“I saw that too, but we didn’t find any silver. Or any coins. And the description of the mine certainly isn’t the Jasper.”
“It sounds like the Vega.” Jon said.
“Holy shit, you’re right.”
“But Lester never mentioned any coins or gold at the Vega.” Jon noted.
“Maybe he didn’t know anything about what could be in the Vega. Maybe it was the wrong war.”
“You mean those eyewitness reports were talking about WWI?” Jon asked.
“What else could explain it? I read earlier that Germany and her allies had shipped gold over here as far back as 1916. That would explain the German 100 year lease of the Vega. A lease that’s still in place.”
Sam joined Tom and Jon in the passenger compartment, and noticed what Tom was reading. “Catching up on history?”
“I think we’ve found our part-time summer job.”
“Hey Sam, what would you have done if Dr. Martin’s crew would have dug up some lead ingots first?”
“Lucille had told me J.T. had dug up all but twenty-five real gold ingots in Lester’s hiding place, so I went out there a few days before and moved them in places where I thought I’d be able to direct Dr. Martin’s men to dig first. I saw his men do some testing on some of the first real gold they dug up, and just hoped they wouldn’t test any more. I think seeing all those bars stacking up in front of them made them gold crazy.”
“If J.T. hadn’t taken the time to plant all those gold-painted lead bars in the desert this would have never worked.” Jon said.
“He was a smart guy. He figured someone, sometime, would eventually run across Lester’s cache, so every time he picked up one of Lester’s gold bars, he’d drop about 10 lead bars on the desert floor.” Sam explained.
Lucille said J.T. loved Lester like a brother and wanted to protect his gold. He did.” Sam said.
“Hey Sam, ever hear from your boyfriend from the desert? Tom asked. “You two looked like a real happy couple until you tried to de-ball him with some good right uppercuts.”
“No, the bastard. You know men. They say they’re gonna call and never do.”
After arriving at La Guardia in late afternoon, the group headed to the Sofitel in Manhattan, took a nap, ate Italian that evening, then went to see the musical Beautiful.
The next morning they met for breakfast and discussed in detail their upcoming meeting. They had done their homework on their client by combing over the records they had recovered from the barrels in the Jasper to ascertain what had been taken in 1939. As best he could, Jon had done the financial analysis and arrived at a number he felt was fair. But all four knew nothing was really fair. No number or financial calculation would ever be enough—not for what had been taken.
They took a cab to the Upper East Side and rang the bell of a beautiful townhouse. A trim, elderly woman peered through the window, smiled, and opened the door.
“Hello. I have been waiting, please come in.”
“Hello ma’am. My name is Samantha. This is my father Ben and our friends Jon and Tom.”
After shaking hands with the men, the old woman said. “When I received your letter, I thought it was a hoax. I could not understand how you found me and how you could know so much about…about what happened.”
Over the next three hours Ben, Sam, Tom, and Jon told the old woman an incredible story. They introduced her to Lester, Eric, Lucille, and J.T. They told her the story of Rolle, Dr. Martin, and those unnamed who remain committed to a virus that began a hundred years before. A virus of hatred, stupidity, and intolerance. They also told her of the gold.
“The reason we are here today is not just to tell you a story, but in some small way recompense you for what you and your family lost so many years ago.” Ben said as he handed the woman a check for $2.6 million. “This amount is based on what we believe the Germans took in terms of real estate, cash, stocks, bonds, and other assets from your family. We have calculated as best we could what those items would be worth today.”
The old woman looked briefly at the check but remained silent.
Tom opened a small travel case and began pulling out items one by one. “Based on the Nazi records we found, we believe these personal items are at least some of the things it appears were taken from you family.” On the table in front of the old woman were several watches, rings, bracelets, and other assorted jewelry. There was also a red toy truck.
Gazing for several moments at what Tom had laid out in front of her, the old woman reached over the jewelry and picked up the truck. “Ari,” she whispered. “He was only four. He was such an imp. Always running all over the house. This was his favorite toy. Of all the toys he had, this little toy truck was his favorite. He would say ‘Anna, where is my red truck?’ And I would say, ‘Under the couch, Ari, where you always leave it.’ He would giggle and then retrieve the truck. It was a game we would play.”
Ben, Sam, Jon, and Tom knew at that moment the trip from Arizona had been worth it.
“After a few years, we all knew what had happened to mother, father, and Ari. We prayed we were wrong, but we knew. But everyone around us had lost family so we banded together to survive the horror. I can’t tell you how much I will be forever indebted to each of you for what you have brought me today. But I have one more favor to ask of you. I would like this check and this jewelry to go to the Holocaust Museum in Washington, DC, in my parent’s and Ari’s names, so people will never forget. My family and I don’t need the money as much as we need people to never forget. Do you understand?”
“Yes, we understand,” Ben said. “We will be happy to do as you ask.”
“I would like to hold on to this.” Anna picked up the red toy truck and cradled it in her hands.
On the flight to DC, Jon asked. “Tom, so who’s next on the list?”
“After Washington, we visit a Dr. Martin Sporn. He lives in Miami. He survived Auschwitz, but his entire family died there.”
“Good thing I love to fly, and we have a jet.” Jon said. Pax wagged his tail in agreement.
Next stop Miami.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
In 1995 I went to the Holocaust Museum in Washington D.C. In 2005 I went again. Again in 2009. Again in 2012. Each visit haunted me for days. Each face I saw was etched in my brain. Especially the children. How could the Nazis…children? Or women? Or anyone? How?
I determined it had started with lies. But in reality, lies are not a bad thing, we hear them every day. The lies remain harmless unless people swallow them, digest them, ingest them, and by doing so, they metastasize into people’s mental and emotional hard drives, gestate, and ultimately emerge as a horror.
There can never be repayment for that horror. But we must be ever vigilant for the lies. We must be mindful that there are some who eat those lies, relish those lies, and will, if opportunity presents, act on those lies.
Those who perished in Auschwitz, Bergen-Belsen, Buchenwald, Dachau, Gross-Rosen and the others deserve our vigilance. It can happen again.
