by Vic Robbie
‘Lost’ seemed to reverberate in his head. The emotionless report angered him. Of course, they had no inkling of the enormity and implications of their words. Even now, having expected this outcome, he was shocked. He trembled and his sight blurred. He touched his forehead, wet with sweat. And uncertainty replaced an enormous sense of loss. What would happen now? The human race was staring at oblivion. What was life without hope? The room appeared to revolve like a slow carousel. He gagged, but nothing came out. He had deluded himself into thinking they might still find the plane and its occupants alive, but he accepted only fools could believe that. Tears of grief, pity and anger welled up in a toxic cocktail and, embarrassed, he wiped them away with his sleeve. He leant forward with both hands on the desk. What could be the future? He recalled those final hours in the bunker two years before. How had it all come to this?
The shelling increased, and though under thirty feet of concrete, they could hear it getting closer by the hour. Every explosion exaggerated their confinement, and dust and powdered cement fell from the ceilings. All the officers closeted in the small room faced an uncertain future. Although the Führer accepted his crusade for the Third Reich had ended, he refused to surrender. Most still holed up in this coffin were reluctant to break out and, as the inevitable approached, they became agitated.
Hitler had instructed his aides that he and Eva Braun would meet the generals in the meeting room next to his private accommodation. Everyone knew this would be their leader’s valedictory although many voiced hopes the great man could yet avoid capture. They had forced open some cabinets and, as the alcohol flowed, Müller encouraged it. False courage buoyed the weak while the more disciplined allowed the drink to desensitise their fears. The more they drank, the more bravado fuelled their arguments with some insisting on taking up arms and going outside to confront the Russians. The more rational just continued drinking and keeping watch. At his farewell appearance, the Führer gave them permission to leave. Some tried, but the fusillade of shots followed by an eerie silence signalled their demise. The others returned to their drinking with gusto.
The Führer believed he had no alternative but to end his life. The fact that this great man could die by his own hand dismayed Müller. He had a plan that would take him to safety on another continent where he could gather the remains of his supporters and reconsider his strategy. It intrigued Hitler and, to Müller’s surprise, his leader quizzed him about all its aspects and even suggested improvements.
Not even Hitler’s inner circle should know. He told Goebbels and his aides that it was his intention to spend time with Eva and, when appropriate, she would bite on her capsule of cyanide and wash it down with a drink. When sure of her death, he would follow her, and he would use a Walther PPK should the drug fail. Müller would be first into the room and, if necessary, carry out the coup de grâce before the Russians entered the bunker.
The plan met Müller’s rigid standards. When someone expects to see something, they can be persuaded they did. A door behind a cupboard in the Führer’s private rooms led to a tunnel to freedom. Because of various assassination attempts against him, he used several body-doubles. Two trusted members of the SS commando unit brought one of the body-doubles through the tunnel, so those outside were not aware of his arrival. Effusive in his thanks for all the man had done for him, he asked that he wear a replica of his dress uniform. And, after copious amounts of whisky, the body-double happily agreed. Soon, the man complained of stomach pains, and Müller stepped forward and put a pillow to his head before firing his Luger. The explosion threw the man sideways on the sofa. He pulled him forward into a sitting position and manoeuvred his head to rest on a coffee table before him, placing the gun in his hand. Blood poured across the table and onto the carpet from a wound that disfigured what remained of his face. They then carried Eva’s body from her bed and laid her down on the sofa by his side. Finally, he took a capsule of poison and broke it open and dropped it at the dead man’s feet.
They had to move fast. Having shaved off his moustache, Hitler changed into a worker’s coarse suit, wound a woollen scarf around his neck, and pushed his hair under a flat cap. Dressed in similar attire, the commandos, waiting in an anteroom, joined them. Each took an arm and escorted him into the tunnel. They would deliver their Führer into the custody of another group of SS commandos who, not knowing his identity, would transport him out of Germany. The original soldiers then went to the body-double’s home and executed his wife and two children. Within hours, they, too, would die, leaving no witnesses to the escape.
He had accompanied them through the tunnel and, as they emerged into the dank afternoon air, Hitler stopped and took both of his hands in his. ‘Heinrich, you are a true friend. Together, we will triumph.’
He snapped to attention, giving the salute. ‘Jawohl, mein Führer,’ he growled. Hitler turned and disappeared. He waited for several minutes listening for the sound of gunfire that would signal the end, but all was quiet. Satisfied, he returned to the Führer’s quarters to make a final check. In his time as a policeman, he had visited many murder or suicide scenes, and he busied himself making a few minor adjustments to ensure authenticity. When satisfied, he left and joined the rest who were almost in party mode.
At 3.30 in the afternoon after the dull thump of a Russian mortar falling in the grounds above, he jumped to his feet and ordered: ‘Quiet. What was that? Sounded like a shot. Here. Inside.’
When he opened the door to Hitler’s rooms, the effect pleased him. To anyone viewing from behind, the Führer had committed suicide rather than be taken prisoner as he had promised.
Now he knew what he should do. He rose from his chair and went over to a cabinet and extracted his Luger. Perfect for what he intended, it would leave a big hole. A strange excitement coursed through his veins, making his body ripple, and at last, there was satisfaction he had done his duty to the best of his ability. He lifted the pistol to his temple, but his hand shook so much it slipped off his skin.
A memory of the man’s head leaking blood over the table flashed through his mind, and he lost focus. His eye caught the Führer’s painting hanging in pride of place on the wall. So lifelike, it was as if he were in the room. He moved nearer and read the inscription in the bottom right-hand corner of the painting ‘Those who want to live, let them fight.’
Like a shot of adrenaline, it jolted him out of his mood. And, angered by his impotence, he slammed a fist as hard as he could into the wall and again and again until it was misshapen and bleeding. The pain forced him to concentrate as an ache grew in his chest and spread throughout his body. Ashamed of his self-pity, he drew back and raised his arm in a silent salute.
He stayed like that for how long he didn’t know before a measure of confidence infused him. They had fooled the world. He nodded as he turned away from the painting and placed the gun on the desk. His work was not finished. Thousands of Nazis were hiding throughout South America. Although some had taken new names and wished to live in anonymity and see out their lives in peace, many still wanted Nazism and its beliefs and ideals to prevail. They needed a leader. He must not let them down.
Tomorrow, as Henry Miller, he would walk down the dusty road again to the bar and drink and play chess as if nothing had changed.
Not all was lost. There was still the boy. Hitler’s son. He would find him again.
Also by Vic Robbie
IN PURSUIT OF PLATINUM
Book 1 of the Ben Peters WWII thriller series
'Brilliant! Exciting! Suspenseful' An action-packed thriller that keeps you wondering right to the end. As Nazis invade Paris in 1940 American Ben Peters attempts to smuggle a fortune in platinum out of the city in the legendary Bullion Bentley. But the Bentley is carrying a more valuable cargo, a mysterious Frenchwoman escaping with her son and a secret that could change the course of the Second World War. Why do the Germans want the boy and what is Alena’s secret that could destroy everything Adolf Hitler and the Nazis stand for?
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PARADISE GOLD
Book 2 of the Ben Peters WWII thriller series
America is facing its biggest threat.
Nazi U-boats are dominating the Atlantic from their base in the Caribbean. And the US government has joined forces with the Mafia to stop Germany from stealing a fortune in gold. Caught between ruthless Germans and Mafia assassins, only American agent Ben Peters knows the Nazis’ terrifying plans for America, but first, he has to deal with two beautiful and dangerous women who will do anything to achieve their goals. Award-winning author Vic Robbie continues with his blend of fact and fiction. A pulsating spy thriller that is a roller-coaster read. If you enjoyed In Pursuit Of Platinum, you won’t be able to put this one down.
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About the Author
Vic Robbie lives in England and spends time in California. An author of fiction and non-fiction, his work as a journalist has been published worldwide. He has worked as a writer, columnist and editor for newspapers and magazines in the UK, US and Australia. His first book in the Ben Peters thriller series, In Pursuit Of Platinum, reached #2 on Amazon’s best sellers list for War stories and #3 for Spy stories. He also founded and edited Golf & Travel magazine and the PGA Official Yearbook. A golfer of little skill, he has also run several marathons, including New York and London, for charity.
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Acknowledgments
Part of the enjoyment in writing a book is the amount of research that it entails and the various, often surprising, paths it can lead you down. My thanks to the many sources who have contributed by supplying information and knowledge, especially those who wish to preserve their anonymity.
As ever, John Peacock has been an invaluable sounding board and a source of encouragement and enthusiasm. Without the daily help of my team – Christine, Gaby, Kirstie, Nick, Maia, Jed, Archie, Isla and Sandie – the book would never have been written. Their support and inspiration is much more valuable than they realise.
For
Gaby, Kirstie and Nick
A Principium Press ebook
Ebook first published in 2017 by Principium Press
Copyright ©Vic Robbie 2017
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The moral right of Vic Robbie to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.
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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of both the author and the above publisher of this book.
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This novel is a work of fiction and all characters are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Cover design by Paula Meneghetti
Cover photograph: Copyright ©Nata Nytiaga/Shutterstock.com
Find out more at www.VicRobbie.com
ISBN-13: 978-0-9573464-8-2 (Ebook edition)
ISBN-13: 978-0-9573464-4-4 (Paperback edition)
