Rise of the Seventh Reich

by Jeremy Croston

  “I be Ryan and I be the co-pilot today. Sit back and enjoy ye flight,” he offered cheerfully.

  Ryan walked up front and took a seat as Paddy and Radu joined the plane. “Am I still callin’ ye Gabriel or does this lot know ye real name, Radu?”

  “The American, Castor, is family and the witch and shaman are stragglers who I hope prove useful against Gerhard, Paddy.”

  He tipped his cap to us. “I'm in the know as well. Be a terrible place, I tell ye,” he joked.

  I'd heard the name Gerhard a few times and wanted to know more. “What makes this guy worse than your average Nazi?”

  Everyone, not just Radu, but everyone went silent. Paddy excused himself to the cockpit and began his preflight routine. I felt as if I'd stepped on a hornet's nest of something. “Someone going to answer?” I asked politely.

  “He is a monster,” Radu started.

  “Not just a monster, but a genius,” Cassie added.

  “His intellect is only matched by how utterly evil he is. The man is a follower of the old ways, Vlad's ways. We know for a fact he uses Jews for his daemonic experiments.”

  “Human experiments?” I asked, disgusted.

  This was another time my lack of worldly events showed through. “It is bad enough the Germans are using concentration camps, but yes, human experiments. Gerhard is trying to build an army that none will be able to oppose. It is crucial that we end his designs as soon as we can,” Radu finished.

  “You made it clear you need allies, but this trip to America seeks frivolous,” Cassie pointed out.

  Radu said nothing.

  “This is personal to you. That's the only reason I can fathom for allowing Castor here to return home. Why else would you stop hunting a man who is successfully creating an army of daemons in the name of Adolf Hitler?”

  Tension was beginning to grow in the cabin oh the plane. The engines turned on and we began to move down the runway as Cassie and Radu continued their ice-cold staring contest. Francisco inched closer to me looking a bit nervous. I wondered if this was his first flight? Most people still tended to the tried and true ship method to cross the Atlantic. Or maybe he was on edge because two very powerful beings were starting to push each other for truths. Why on Earth would she poke him right as we launched into the sky?

  “You overstep your bounds, witch.”

  “Or do you overstep yours for hiding some truths from us?”

  I was tempted to ask not to be dragged into this, but it was too late. “Does she speak for you, Castor?”

  A jolt of turbulence shook the plane violently. “Would both of you shut up?” I seethed.

  “Castor?” Cassie said meekly.

  “No, I’ve had enough of it. If I’m going to die in this bucket of bolts, I’m going to have the last word.” I pointed at Radu. “Just because I’m more concerned with my family’s well-being doesn’t mean I don’t give a crap about the world at large. Stop treating me as some whelp who just happens to be related to you, got it?”

  He nodded silently.

  “And you,” my attention went back to Cassie. “You might think because you’re some big and bad witch that as a human, I’m fragile and weak - that’s not even close to the truth. I might die, but I can and will kill you if the time arises.” I slid back my coat to show her my gun. “The three of us were brought together by the Lord Almighty to do some damn good in a world full of evil. We’re going to take care of Abigail Dracul and then we’re going to put this Gerhard fella six feet under. That’s it, end of story.”

  “I donna about any of ye, but that speech got me fired up!” Paddy yelled from the cockpit.

  Both Radu and Cassie looked embarrassed by the tongue lashing I just delivered. I was still breathing heavily, but knew it was time to turn this around. “My family’s legacy is riding on my not being a total screw up. Sure, I left Texas to seek your aid, Radu, but I also left to finally live up to the Brinza name.”

  Another rough patch of air hit. “Sorry about that laddies and lass. We be at altitude and it’ll smooth out.”

  Paddy’s assurance of a quieter ride relaxed me a bit. I felt my shoulders slump into the not so comfortable seat I was stuck in. No one said anything. The quiet was quite peaceful and I felt my eyelids close for the duration of the flight.

  ****

  “Hello Castor.”

  As my eyes opened, I knew I was back inside the dream world that I kept falling into lately. Sitting beside me, on the Brinza family Texas homestead’s porch, was a teenager. He looked kinda like me at this point. “Luka?”

  The younger man grinned. “Your shaman friend opened the connection, allowing me to finally talk to you.”

  “I wouldn’t call him my friend, but yeah.”

  Luka seemed so at ease with everything. Me, I was a bit nervous by this. “There is nothing to be concerned with. I’m not here to hurt you or expose you to any pain.”

  “Why are you here?” I asked.

  The sky in front of us light up with fireflies, just like the last memory. “These warm summer nights were always my favorite,” Luka reminisced.

  Just as I was about to ask again why I was here, the howl of a werewolf echoed across the night. “Are you sure we’re safe?”

  “You are, but for me, tonight was the night that my life changed forever.”

  “You can’t die or else I wouldn’t be here.”

  Luka stood up and looked out into the open land around the house. “That werewolf is being chased by a group from the Vatican, hellbent on ridding the world of supernatural creatures. Not that it was his fault, but he led them to us. Once the holy men knew where the Dracul and Brinza clan were hiding out, we never knew peace again.”

  I saw the large black werewolf come into view. It was badly hurt. “He’s not long for this world.”

  “As I said, I don’t want to bring you pain, so you’ll not have to witness this.” He placed his hand on my shoulder. “We will talk again, but for now, you are needed back with Radu.”

  ****

  It was like cold water hit me. “Where am I?” I muttered sleepily.

  “We have made it to America,” Radu whispered. “And the airplane is surrounded by men in uniform.”

  Chapter Nine

  **New York City; 1941 the year of our Lord**

  “W hy on God’s green Earth would New York City police officers be out at this podunk little landing strip?” I asked, knowing full well none of them had a damn clue.

  Between the duration of the flight and the time difference, it was still only late afternoon. Granted, being this far in the northern hemisphere meant the sun was practically going down at dinner time, so we only had to buy Radu a bit of time before he could move. Plus, we needed to find transportation to Texas. All of this would have to be worked out later; the blasted police were here.

  Yet, there was something strange about the men outside.

  As I made eye contact out of the window with the officer closest to my vantage point, that’s when I noticed instead of precinct emblems on their uniforms, they bore the mark of the Holy Roman Church.

  “Those aren’t police officers,” I muttered. “The church has found us.”

  We heard a voice calling out. “My name is Jean Pollard, Inquisitor from the Vatican,” he introduced himself in a thick French accent. “All occupants of this aircraft are hereby to submit to the church for ruling.”

  I didn’t like at all the way he said ruling. “I can just kill them all, you know?” Cassie offered.

  “My family is already in their bad graces! I’m not going to have you kill them; I’ll reason with them.”

  “Castor, these people are not going to reason with you,” Radu sighed. “I cannot believe I’m going to say this, but the witch may be onto something.”

  I put my hands up. “C’mon Francisco, you’re with me. Paddy, open the door.”

  The pilot got out of his seat and saluted me. “Aye aye, boss.”

  Before the other two could o
bject, the shaman and I took our leave and exited the plane. Standing there, waiting with a variety of crosses and Bibles at the ready were the church’s hit squad. Man o man, they had no idea what was waiting for them just inside that plane.

  “Afternoon gentlemen, what seems to be the problem?”

  The Frenchman was taken aback by my direct and cheerful disposition. “You are Castor Brinza.” It wasn’t a question. “You and the occupants of this plane are wanted by the church for your connection to the Dracul clan. Are you surrendering peacefully?”

  Francisco chuckled. “You do not know,” he rumbled in broken English.

  “You brought a dark magic practitioner with you?” the Inquisitor asked with disgust.

  “Francisco? Nah, he’s just a good old boy from Cuba by way of Ireland. But he ain’t the target of this here conversation.” I was turning up the Texas charm. “Francisco’s just here to make sure I don’t do anything dumb, ya hear?”

  Everyone around Jean tensed up, not sure what I meant.

  “Fellas, I’m just a human. You needn’t be afraid of me.”

  “If you are not surrendering-”

  “Save it, Frenchy,” I cut him off. “On that plane is Radu Dracul and a witch. I’m out here to save your lives.”

  One of the guys behind Jean apparently didn’t take kindly to those words. He opened his uniform jacket and removed a sword. Charging me like an idiot, I did the only thing that made sense.

  I pulled out my gun and shot him in the leg.

  Blood splattered everywhere. The would-be attacker dropped to the ground, screaming obscenities in what I thought was Italian. The rest of Pollard’s minions looked to him for direction, but he didn’t give any.

  Instead…

  Co-pilot Ryan had Paddy in a headlock with his own gun pressed against his forehead. “Drop it, Brinza,” he dropped his Irish accent. “The vampire and witch are knocked out thanks to the gas you provided, Inquisitor.”

  Do it!

  I wasn’t sure where that voice came from, but Luka?

  Don’t hold back, Castor. It’s time.

  No one else could hear the private conversation between me and my dead grandpappy. All they could see was my split-second hesitation before…

  Ryan never saw the bullet. By the time it exited the back of his skull, bits of bone and other matter hit the plane as his dead body slid down quietly to the floor. Paddy, being a man of war, quickly recovered and grabbed the pistol Ryan was holding.

  The Inquisitor's men weren’t prepared for this turn of events.

  The two of us started the firefight with the holy men. The four that survived the initial assault fled to different parts by the hangar. Francisco, still behind us, began chanting in his unusual mix of languages. As Paddy and I took over by different parts of the plane, it wasn’t lost on me that the sky was beginning to turn a very ominous shade of red. It became clear there was a lot more to the shaman than he’d shown me. No wonder Radu was so apprehensive when it came to dealing with him the first time.

  “Caster, what be happenin’?”

  “I don’t know, Paddy,” I answered after sending two more bullets flying. “Just be prepared for anything.”

  One of the holy men took a chance and jumped out from his cover. He was dead to rites the moment he gave me a clear shot. Another perfect headshot dropped the man and made it a bit more manageable. I didn’t see Pollard anywhere - could the man leading this operation have turned tail and ran?

  “¡Abre las puertas del infierno!”

  Francisco’s war cry shook me to the core. “What’d he say?”

  “He said ‘open the gates to Hell,’ Paddy.”

  The dark shaman took out another black dagger and charged forward to the first man I shot. By this point, he was in shock from pain and blood loss, so it didn’t even faze him that a crazy man with a knife rolled him over. It was only when Francisco dug the dagger into his chest that the screams of mercy came again.

  Mercy… there was no mercy.

  It took all of a hot minute for the shaman to get what he needed. Hands covered in blood, he raised the heart of the dead man high into the air. “Toma este sacrificio.”

  Whoever he offered the heart to, it was accepted. The organ instantly was snapped into oblivion. That’s when the sky opened up and fire rained down.

  This wasn’t the power of Hell. This was the power of Vlad Dracul.

  I watched in awe as the fiery embers eliminated the rest of the men. The fortunate ones were struck in such a way that death was instantaneous. One wasn’t so lucky; the fire hit him in the gut and he had to gape at his own intestines being burned to a crisp. Pity hit me and I ended his life with a single gunshot.

  It was over, but at what cost?

  I grabbed Francisco by his collar. “Just what the hell was that?”

  “Our victory,” he answered with no malice evident.

  Paddy had disappeared into the plane while I went after Francisco. I turned back as I heard two thuds behind me. He had gone back into the aircraft and retrieved Radu and Cassie. Both were still unconscious but okay.

  “That dirty rotten son of a bitch,” Paddy cursed.

  I let Francisco go and headed over to my companions. When I placed two fingers on Cassie’s neck to check for a pulse, her eyes opened and she gasped for air.

  “What happened?” she asked groggily.

  “It appears we were compromised,” Radu answered. He was sitting up slowly.

  The dead body of Ryan the co-pilot was probably another dead giveaway of what happened. “It was an inside job?” Radu asked.

  “That damn fool, sellin’ us out ta the church,” Paddy told them. “He got what he deserved.”

  Of course, that was only one of the surprises that took place while they were out cold. “Who summoned the power of Satan himself? The last person to do this was my brother.”

  “Not Satan, dark magic,” Francisco challenged in his broken English.

  “He’s right, you know. Magic is only as evil as the person using it.”

  Cassie didn’t seem to be the person Radu wanted to hear from. “Witch, I have seen first-hand what you can do. Speak to me when evil doesn’t dance in your heart.”

  Sweet mercy, I was wrong to get mad at Francisco, seeing how this whole conversation was about to play out. We’d been here before, the tension never quite sinking that far below the surface. Darkness followed our little band, including darkness from inside the church.

  That’s where our anger should’ve been, at the church.

  “An inquisitor named Jean Pollard was the one who greeted us,” I explained. Pollard escaped during the chaos, too. “It seems the Vatican ain’t too far behind our trail.”

  It was that comment that brought us back to where we needed to be. “Let’s all get out of here. We needn’t be ambushed again.”

  The smell of burning flesh was starting to get to me. With nowhere else to really go, we hoofed it away from the ruined air strip and hangar. For me, it made sense to find out just where we were in the New York countryside. If I had to make an educated guess, I’d probably estimate Paddy came in close to the city and went a bit further west. I’d verify that once the man wasn’t in complete shock about what just took place with Ryan. He hadn’t said it yet, but I’m pretty sure they two of them served together and saw action as brothers.

  With the moon hanging high over us, we had probably eight to ten hours to figure out a plan before we lost another day. The pressure, along with the crazy odds of what we were trying to accomplish, was a big portion of animosity in our group.

  And it was only going to get worse.

  Chapter Ten

  “T his is a payphone. What seems to be the issue?”

  No one had said a word the entire length of the walk into Morris Plains yet now they wanted to voice their skepticism that I could get a hold of Julia with a payphone. “No one say a word, I’m dialing.”

  Two rings and the operator picked up. “Good even
ing, the number that you’d like connected with the city please,” a friendly female voice instructed.

  “El Paso, Texas, and the number’s seven-two-four.”

  “And with whom is calling and to be called?”

  “Castor Brinza to Julia Dracul, please,” I responded.

  “As soon as a connection can be made, I’ll give a ring back.” The line disconnected.

  “What happened?” Cassie asked as soon as I hung up.

  “The operator connects to the person you want to call and then she calls back. This is all normal.”

  For me, as the minutes went by, it was just business as usual. I’d use the payphone system before and sometimes it could take upwards of a half hour for the operator to get back. For Radu, Cassie, and Paddy, they were sure this little venture was a time waster and would fail. Francisco, at least he was more concerned with studying the dirt. Sometimes he had this child-like amazement to him.

  And others, he was a dark priest who could burn the world if he wanted.

  Cassie was flapping her gums about something or other when the phone rang back. “See,” I snarked as I answered. “Hello?”

  “Castor, is that really you?”

  It was truly Julia’s voice. “It’s me and as much as I’d like to talk to you about a great many things, we’re in trouble.”

  I took a few moments to explain the situation to her. She gasped when I told her that I’d brought Radu to America, but kept quiet throughout the parts about witches, shamans, and a holy man hunting us. Julia was one of the smartest people I’d known, so if anyone was going to have an idea, it was her.

  “I have no idea how to get you from New York to Texas.”

  Well damn. “Julia, I need to give these people an idea,” I muffled into the phone, hoping they didn’t hear.

  “You were the one who went on this ill-fated journey, what did you expect me to do?”

  “Stop talking sense.” I wasn’t good at hiding my frustration.

  “Hmmmm,” she offered. “You’re outside of New York City, right?”