by Shane Crosby
“You know that wasn’t anywhere near good.”
“I’m trying to think positive.”
“Okay, I’ll stop impeding your positivity this morning.”
“We have to make it to our destination today. It looks like the snow has stopped.”
“Our journey should be a lot better today. Based upon this map, our destination isn’t that far away.”
“Good let’s not waste any more time.”
I have to say; I hate to leave this warm toasty room. And, go out into that bitter cold.”
“I hear ya.”
“We have a goal so let’s make it.”
We put our packs on our backs checked the room one more time and started out on our journey.
We hiked all day and finally made it to our last stop on this train late that afternoon. When we arrived, there was nothing there but more snow, hills and mountains for miles. I know I’m an undercover CIA operative, trained to survive circumstances that they create in horror movies, but at that point I think we all were about to cry. Days hiking through lakes and rivers, snow, rain, blizzard like weather through anything that the universe through at us. We were determined not to quit. We get to our destination and there’s nothing here.
“Oh no, please don’t tell me I’m seeing this which is nothing.”
“I was just thinking the same thing. I want you both to turn around.”
“Why?’
“Because I don’t want you to see a grown man cry.”
“I don’t want to see that either.”
“Me either. Mase stop playing. You’re a fighter pilot. I know you better not be up here crying like some big ass baby.”
“Dub! We hiked for like a week darn near. Ain’t nothing up here. The snow is starting again, this wind is picking up. Damn! All this and we got nothing, but a bunch of lunatics trying to kill us.”
“Don’t get down about it. We couldn’t mapped it out wrong. The Attorney General could’ve gotten a number incorrect in the coordinates.”
“Check the coordinates.”
“Scott we’ve checked them one hundred times. The coordinates are right.”
“How can that be when there’s nothing here?”
“I don’t know. Let me think.”
“We all need to think.”
“I wanna cry.”
“Mase shut up. Stop saying that.”
We were so disoriented we started walking around in circles. I’ve always heard desperation will make people do things you won’t believe.
“Hey, I stepped on something.”
“So?”
Scott started digging in the ground. Mase and I approached him to see what he found. When he removed enough of the snow, it was a lid with a handle. It didn’t look like much to either of us, but Scott wasn’t going to give up until he made it mean something.
“There’s a handle, one second.”
“That’s not going to open we’re going to need some heat.”
“I’ve got just what we need.” I fired up the torch we brought to start a fire and put the flames around the door.
“Now try it.”
He lifted the handle and started to pull on the door. It moved a little but not enough to open the top.I put some more fire around the hinges, Scott pulled the handle until it came open.
“A phone.”
“What’s a phone doing way out here in the middle of nowhere?”
“We won’t know until we try it. See if it works.”
“Scott it was your discovery.”
“You’re not going to believe this.”
“What?”
“There’s a freaking dial tone?”
“On that phone?”
“I know! I can’t believe it either.”
“Now what?”
“Great now who are we supposed to call?”
“Hold it there’s some writing on the inside of this box. It’s a number or series of numbers.”
“Can you tell what they mean?”
“Is it a phone number or more coordinates?”
“It looks like more coordinates.”
“Let me see.”
“It could be a phone number.”
“A phone number way out here? We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
“We have nothing to lose.”
“I say try it.”
Mase tries a combination of numbers. None of them are successful. We’re about to give up and start hiking back when the last combination he tried starts to ring. With each ring without an answer resulted in our hope starting to wane. But, just as quickly as we were to accept defeat and give up, just like that, there’s an answer for the hopeful.
“Hello.”
“Yes, sir, we’re here on behalf of George Briggs, Attorney General....” he interrupts.
“I know who he is. Wait there.”
“What happened?”
“He said wait here and hung up.”
“Hung up?”
“Wait here for how long?”
“I didn’t get a chance to ask him before he hung up.”
“That’s great! We’re waiting for someone who may not ever come.”
“Then we go back to the rendezvous point and see what Trev and Don came up with. Stop whining like a little woman.”
“Oh, he doesn’t like it when it’s said to him.”
“I see he doesn’t.”
“Shut up, both of you. I’m just aggravated at all this follow this clue and that clue nonsense.”
“That’s because you’re used to already knowing who your target is and when you’re going to kill them. Same with us. We already know where we’re going and who we’re going to hit.”
“Right, this is Trevor and Don’s arena. We’re all frustrated, but we have to endure to help them.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“Think positive, he knows the Attorney General. He wouldn’t have had these coordinates if he didn’t.”
“He said he knew him.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s coming for us. We might be someone here to kill him.”
“Everything he went through to keep himself hidden, I’m sure he knows or has some sort of idea that we’re not here to kill him.”
“No sense is speculating, we’ll know soon enough.”
TWO HOURS LATER
GOOD THINGS COME.......
SWEDEN
I know we must have waited for what seemed like hours before we heard the motor of what sounded like a motorcycle or maybe a utility vehicle. I couldn’t pinpoint it. It took several minutes before we could see something coming towards us in the distance. We stood up to see if we could get a closer look but were unable to tell exactly what it was. We heard several dogs barking and soon we could see them clearly. Scott tapped Mase then me and pointed. There was a man pulling something behind him. As he came closer, we could tell it was a snowmobile. He was pulling another one behind him. He pulled right up to us and stopped.
He was an older gentleman but he kept himself in shape. He had a mustache and a long beard that was salt and pepper. Surprisingly, more pepper than salt. His eyes were blue and had a few crow’s feet. To stave off the winter cold, he had a lot of clothing on but you could tell he wasn’t heavy no old man gut. When he shook our hand, he did it with confidence, straight shoulders, chest sticking out, eye to eye stare and booming voice. He wasn’t used to being intimidated. He looked to be the one who was used to doing the intimidating.
With a thick Russian accent, he greeted us.
“Hello, I’m Dominic Stravosky, how are you?”
“Hello Mr. Stravosky. Thank you for coming to meet us.”
“Does either one of you know how to drive one of these things?” He pointed to the snow mobile behind him.
“No sir, can’t say we do.”
“Well, decide which one of you wants to learn. You’ll learn or you’ll stay out here. Whoever is riding with me, let’s go.”
We grew up in the inne
r city. Yes, we’ve seen plenty of snow, but none of our parents had enough money to buy a snowmobile. If we wanted to slip and slide on the snow, we used a cardboard box and made a sled out of it.
It took me and Mase thirty minutes to figure out how to turn it on. Then, we couldn’t put in in gear for it to go forward. Mr. Stravosky had to turn around and show us how. Even then, we were dangerous behind the handles of that thing.
As we got closer and closer to his house, this large eloquent structure became visible off in the distance. We pulled into his driveway area and got off the snowmobiles. We walked toward the door of his home and we looked like tourists visiting New York, all we were doing is looking up at this lovely building that commanded attention. I think everyone was in awe of its beauty. It’s a log cabin style home but modernized. It was a three story house. The top of the roof went up like a triangle. A window made up the middle section of the home. There were doors that you opened to walk out on the massive deck that wrapped around the entire second floor. The bottom had windows on both sides of the front door. The doors were huge and looked to be made out of steel. When we opened them, you could tell, they were solid, but they swung open effortlessly. The inside was immaculate; everything was in its proper place. It looked like a house you show. My second thought when I walked in was, it feels so warm in here I wish I could pick this house up and carry it back to the rendezvous point and take it back to Berlin because here, right here at this moment my brother’s and I felt safe. A feeling that’s been foreign to us for a very long time has somehow eased its way back into our emotion cache. Even I, the most unimpressed of us all had to give credit where credit was due. I never thought we’d feel safe again if even for a moment so, I’m going to relish in it.
We were shown to our rooms, where we showered changed clothes and came down to partake in a little bread and wine.
“Mr. Stravosky, thank you for all of this, this food was delicious.”
“You’re welcome. We don’t get guests much do we boys?”
He was talking to three beautiful Siberian Huskies obedient sitting right next to him.
“How long have you lived out here?”
“Oh, about thirty-six years.”
“Do you have TV?”
He starts to laugh.
“I do not have TV. I do, however, have a radio.”
“You’ve been out here for decades without a TV? No connection to the outside world?”
“I have wi-fi, does that count?”
“I think you’re teasing us a bit.”
“Oh, but you make it so easy.”
“How did you build this house way out here?”
“Well, the same way as you would anywhere, of course.”
“But, this is in the middle of nowhere. It must have been murder trying to get materials and equipment out here.”
“It was challenging, yes but doesn’t mean it can’t be done, no?”
“True.”
“Did you build it in the spring and summer?”
“I first built a little log cabin just big enough for me and my first dog. I would work on the foundation of this one every day when weather permits. It took years to get it to what you see today.”
“I can imagine. It’s a beautiful house. You just live here with your dogs?”
“That’s it, that’s all I need. People cannot be trusted. They lie, stabbed you in the back, cheat. Ah, tsk, don’t need. Get yourself some dogs you’ll have loyalty for life.”
He rubbed his dogs on the head and hugged them.
“Every time you look at your dog you’re looking at loyalty. I would take dogs over people any day.”
“I had a Pit bull when I was a kid and he was my best friend. He died the day after I graduated high school. I think that was the worst thing I’ve experienced even going to war and losing friends the death of my dog is something I think about to this day.”
“Yeah our parents still have dogs and we had them all of our lives while growing up they’re great companions.”
“Yes, I must agree as you can see I have three. But, you didn’t come here to talk to me about my furry friends.”
“No sir. It’s just a better topic of conversation then the real reason we came.”
“Oh, I see. You mentioned George. How is he? Let me see, he didn’t send you himself, no?”
“Not in the literal sense.”
“What’s this?”
“He means no.”
“Let me guess, he’s dead?”
“How did you know?”
“In our line of work no one ever comes on your behalf unless you are dead or half dead. I was hoping for the latter and my old friend has chance to survive.”
“Unfortunately, no.”
“What happened?”
“While eating dinner with his family, he had a heart attack.”
“Um hmmm, what really happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“Will someone explain to our naïve friend? No one in this line of work just has a heart attack sitting home eating dinner. George was in great health.”
“His wife believed he was murdered.”
“That’s more like likely. How is Marylyn? She must be devastated, no?”
“Yes, she is but she’s a fighter.”
“Someone is probably still watching her.”
“Who?”
“That’s why we’re here. We hope you can help us figure all of this out.”
“Tell me.”
“We’ve been tracked, hunted, shot and everything has been done to kill us. We don’t know who we’re running from. We were hoping you could help.”
“Show me what you have.”
We got out the bag with the information from the Attorney General. The first thing we showed him were the pictures. He looked intrigued by the first picture.
“Do you know who this is?”
“He worked at Auschwitz prison.”
“You’ve come all this way and know nothing. I hope you have time because you have stepped in some deep stuff.”
“Do you mind if we write this down?”
“No. You will need to remember. Now, where are we?”
He picks up the picture, takes a good long look at it and says with that thick Russian accent.
“Richter, I haven’t seen you like this in decades.” He starts to laugh. And, even his laugh sounds Russian.
“What can you tell us about him?”
“Well, first if it doesn’t have anything to do with our case we can move on.”
“It has everything to do with your country and the state that it’s in. I may not have TV as you say, but I have ways to communicate. One way was through George. I don’t know anything about your so called case. You’ll have to determine the usefulness of what you hear from me.”
“You spoke with the Attorney General?”
“I did more than that. I saw him. We met before he died.”
“Wait, so you must have discussed quite a bit in that last meeting because he had a treasure trove of documentation and all of these pictures.”
“Yes. So, you done interrupting me now?” Mase smiles.
“Yes, sir, sorry about that.”
He laughs. “No problem. You young people, No patience.”
He takes another deep breath leans back and starts with his story. Before he could get too far into it, we quickly picked our things up and sat around the couch. With the crackling of the fireplace, it reminded me of those old black and white movies about Christmas.
“The picture - you have here isn’t of someone who just worked in the camp. Gerhardt was Hitler’s General. He was in charge of the experiments, the gas chambers and the ovens. He knew about everything. They say, if someone was dying of starvation, he wouldn’t wait for them to die. He would put them in the oven while alive.”
He would say, “They were dying anyway. We need the bed. I have a picture.”
He gets up to go get it and return to the couch. “See,
here? This is Gerhardt standing in front of the trenches with all of the dead bodies in them. Do you see the smile on his face? He enjoyed it.”
“Wow! This guy has to be burning in hell right now.”
“The worst part is he probably likes it. He gets to torture souls in hell.”
“Good one.”
“Why did the Attorney General have this picture?”
“Good question. When we last spoke, he believed he saw a relative of Gerhardt.
“Did he say who it was?”
“He did not. It alarmed him, to the point that he started researching this.”
“Did he say where he saw him?”
“He did not say exactly, no.”
“What’s the complete story on this guy?”
“Do you know?”
“Gerhardt fled after they stormed Auschwitz. He was allowed to enter into Russia and worked for the KGB. He had a different name then. He went by Achim Hoffman. During his time there, he was in charge of the killing fields, as we liked to call them. “
“Wait, we?”
“Yes, I was KGB. Maybe I should have started there. George’s father new someone in the CIA. He helped me to defect. That’s ‘nother story. When KGB tortures someone we would at times kill entire families. We did not care who; women, children, your grandmother, no one was safe. We have burned down entire buildings because the person we are after was seen there. Gerhardt would do what he does best; he would dig those trenches in the fields and bury the bodies. He was very good at this. The guards who worked for Hitler were sought after and still are. I found information regarding Gerhardt’s real identity and forwarded it onto George’s dad who gave it to the CIA. I would only cooperate if they could get me out of Mother Russia. It did not have to be the US but hey, this isn’t so bad, no?” He starts to chuckle.
“What happened?”
“He escaped. But, they still helped me to leave. I didn’t know what happened to Gerhardt. I hadn’t thought of him in years, until I spoke with George.”
“So, you knew this Gerhardt?”
“Quite well. He kept his identity very close to the, how you say in America? Uhhh, help an old man.”
“Close to the...”
“Vest.”
“Ah yes, this is the saying, yes.”
The more he talked, the thicker his Russian accent became.
“He tried very hard to hide, but I started to detect his German accent. I became suspicious of him. Since the war was just over, I did some research and found pictures of him in Auschwitz with Hitler and the SS. When you work for the KGB you have contacts that will help you with things like these.”
