Nazi Magician: Inventor

by Ward Wagher

  “I am glad we have the older sergeants in the force,” Karl said. “They are confident, but not cocky.”

  Dieter chuckled. “I overheard one of the old sergeants chewing on a corporal this afternoon. I thought it would strip the paint from the wall.”

  “They are certainly good at it,” Boetzl agreed. “I went to officer school, but the sergeants ran it, and they were good at it.”

  “Perhaps we should suggest we make efforts to find those older sergeants with the talent that we can adopt into the Magicians Corps,” Florian said.

  “The Wehrmacht wouldn’t thank you,” Boetzl said. “Most of the regular army has no use for the SS. But, I suppose we won’t change that overnight.”

  Or ever, Dieter thought to himself.

  “The weapons are performing as expected,” Florian commented. “It seems like everyone in the corps dislikes the magician outfits. They feel silly. I wonder, in retrospect, if that was a good idea.”

  “I suppose that is something to talk to Rolf about,” Karl said. “Although that was originally his idea and he is rather proud of it.”

  “I think the Führer liked it, too,” Dieter said. “We might think carefully before we make a recommendation. Perhaps we can include the magicians’ opinions as a data point and let the powers that be draw their own conclusions.”

  “An excellent point,” Boetzl stated. “No one likes to be told they played the fool.”

  “Especially senior officers,” Florian added.

  Boetzl had just taken a sip from his lager and choked. The others laughed. Others in the hotel dining room looked over to see what had caused the explosion of mirth. Florian pounded Boetzl on the back as he tried to clear his pipes, tears running down his face.

  The week of interviews continued in the same vein. Boetzl was easygoing but kept the proceedings on point. He was a good officer, and it showed. The three men from the Frankfort laboratory were accomplished researchers and knew how to tease information from the subjects. He had been given clear instructions from the SS hierarchy and was doing his best to fulfill the mission.

  They left early Friday morning on another JU 52, this time with the morning sun in front of them. Karl now gazed out the windows at the landscape flowing beneath the aircraft. Dieter and Florian paged through the notes and discussed their findings. They planned to meet with Rolf the following Monday and see what further instructions he had.

  During the week, Dieter had conceived and was now pondering ideas for new weapons. He wondered if they would have a chance to develop them in the lab, or if he even should. The trip was a respite and a change of pace. He was very interested in the reactions of the magicians to the weapons and their use in warfare. He had thought little about his upcoming escape. But it was now before him, and he knew it was time to come to grips with his own feelings about the Nazis, his work, and, of course, Jette.

  There was no doubt he was attracted to the girl but was also put off by her abrasiveness and overbearing manner. This didn’t seem to bother Florian, so if he wondered if he was making excuses for some shortcomings of his own. The three of them would likely spend a lot of time together soon, and he realized he would have to control his tongue, regardless of what she did.

  Frau Hohltaube was another question in his mind. The old lady seemed to know more than anyone would expect. She was confident that Dieter and Florian would ultimately succeed in their quest. Her optimism seemed at odds with her fierce manner and ability to reduce almost anyone to a quivering state of fear.

  The pilots eased Junkers to a silky-smooth landing in Frankfort. Dieter and Florian retrieved the KdF Wagen and made their way across the city to the rooming house. They stopped along the way to share an evening meal. Rolf had given them a large roll of Reichsmarks as expense money for the trip, and they had spent little of it. Rolf didn’t seem concerned about an accounting of the funds and when Dieter had commented about returning the balance, he was told not to worry about it.

  Sated by their dinner of sausage and potatoes, they both went to Dieter’s room so they could plot their next moves. Florian immediately walked over and stretched out on Dieter’s bed and put his arms behind his head.

  “Ahh, this is good. It has been a long day.”

  “Come on, Florian, if you’re that tired, you can go back to your room and go to bed. We have things to talk about.”

  Thirty seconds after they arrived, the door opened, and Frau Hohltaube marched in.

  “Now that you two have had your vacation, it is time to get down to business,” she stated without preamble. “The Gestapo grabbed Jette from the bus while she was on her way home tonight.”

  Florian bounced up off the bed. “What? What happened? Who set their dogs on Jette? We must rescue her.”

  “She has already been rescued and is here. You must get ready and leave immediately.”

  “We are not ready,” Dieter exclaimed. “We need to get food and supplies for the trip.”

  “It is ready,” Frau Hohltaube said. “You must load up and leave.”

  Dieter turned and started to collect equipment and clothes, while Florian faced the old woman.

  “But who rescued Jette?”

  “She has been rescued,” she repeated. “That is all you need to know.”

  “I need to see her.”

  “You will see her presently. Please get ready.”

  Florian seemed to wither under her gaze and started looking around the room at the mass of equipment they required.

  “Where is Jette’s gear?” he asked.

  “I believe she already collected it.”

  “We probably should gear up before we leave,” Dieter said. “Who knows what we’ll run into out there.”

  The sound of multiple people in the hallway interrupted the conversation. As Dieter began to turn, the door banged open and bounced against the wall. Two Gestapo agents stepped into the room, holding their pistols at ready. Rolf stepped between them and walked into the room.

  “I am very disappointed in you, Dieter,” he said. “After all I have done for you, and this is how you return my benefits.”

  “You arrested Jette!” Florian shouted.

  Rolf shrugged. “I could not allow a Jew to remain under my management. They are a cancer on the nation. That vermin has escaped from custody. But, I want to know how you were able to find out about this”

  Dieter involuntarily looked at Frau Hohltaube, and Rolf followed his eyes.

  “Ah, yes, the old woman. I have not been able to discover your part in this conspiracy. But when we get you back to Gestapo Headquarters, I will have answers by any means necessary.”

  “You will find that unnecessary Herr Kaaden,” the she said in a soft voice.

  Rolf seemed to shiver when she spoke. “On the contrary, I find it quite necessary. You are in contravention of the Reich and quite possibly treasonous.”

  At that moment, the actinic glare of a beam weapon blinded everyone in the room. The beam cut through Rolf and then through the wall of the house. His spinal cord severed, Rolf tumbled to the floor with a scream. Dieter closed his eyes tightly as the beam again lashed the Gestapo agents.

  Things became quiet, and he opened his eyes, blinking rapidly in an attempt to clear the dazzle. By not looking straight ahead, he saw Jette standing in the door, wearing a magician’s robe and holding the small beam pistol.

  “Rolf is still alive,” Florian said, staring at the SS officer who lay on the floor moaning.

  “He told me that he was the one who arrested my family,” Jette replied in a hate infused voice. “I want him to remember what he did to my family and what I did to him as he dies. He is an evil, evil man.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  January 5, 1940

  There was silence in the room for nearly a half minute.

  “Mein Gott, Jette!” Dieter exclaimed.

  “You must go,” Frau Hohltaube said. “I will take care of things here. I have supplies for you in my room.”

&nb
sp; “It is going to require several trips to the car,” Florian said. “I’ll get started.”

  He grabbed an armful of equipment and headed down the stairs at a gallop. Residents of the rooming house opened doors and peered into the hallway, undoubtedly curious as to what was going on.

  “Come, Dieter,” the old lady said, “Let me show you what I have for you. Jette, guard this room, please.”

  The little Jewish girl stood next to the door with her beam pistol at ready and possessed the ferocious look of a true warrior. Dieter wondered if she didn’t frighten him more than the old lady did. He followed Frau Hohltaube down the stairs and along the hallway to her room. In the center of the room lay a neat stack of food. Bread, cheese, and smoked sausage were evident. There were tins of crackers, breads, and pastries as well.

  “Thank you, Frau Hohltaube. I don’t know how you managed to gather all this, but it will be needed as we travel.”

  “I know it well,” she said primly. “You have a long journey ahead of you.”

  She reached out and handed him a small cloth bag. As he took it, the contents clinked.

  “What is this?”

  “I was able to convert most of your Reichsmarks into gold coin. It should suffice to get you started in a new land.”

  “Thank you for doing that. This is going to be very helpful.”

  Florian stepped in the door. “Dieter, we can take Rolf’s Horch. There is not enough room in the KdF Wagen for us and all this gear.”

  “But we will have to purchase gasoline.”

  “No. I went to move it, and it is now powered by magic. One of the people Jette drilled must have been a magician.”

  “Well, we know Rolf was, anyway. Good for our team.”

  “Right. Let’s get with it then. Frau Hohltaube, you must come with us. The Gestapo knows about you.”

  “My mission is here, Herr Goldstein, and here I must stay. I am not worried about the Gestapo. Besides, I must clean up the bodies upstairs. I do worry that you are delaying too long.”

  “Right. Thank you again.”

  He and Dieter each picked up an armload of groceries and moved down the hall to the staircase. At the bottom of the stairs, Herr Becker stepped out of the sitting room.

  “You will be leaving us, Herr Faust and Herr Goldstein?”

  “Uh, yes, Herr Becker. I need to pay you what I owe.”

  “That is honorable of you. However, Frau Hohltaube settled all the accounts. We are sorry to see you leave. You have been good tenants.”

  He wondered if Becker would still believe that when he encountered the bodies littering the third floor. Then he wondered if the old lady would simply cause the bodies to disappear. He walked out into the cold still night and looked around. Rolf’s Horch was parked behind the KdF Wagen. He crunched through the snow to the car and helped Florian stow everything.

  “I am putting the foodstuffs in the trunk, or as much as will fit. I wanted to keep the back seat open so that I can work on the devices. Jette will ride upfront with you.”

  “I’m probably better at wiring things up than you,” Dieter replied.

  “Yes, but I can’t drive. You are going to have to do that. I can do well enough on the equipment.”

  “Okay, then. Let’s get the rest of the stuff and get on our way. I want to take advantage of the night. If daylight comes and you haven’t gotten the invisibility worked out, we will be parading in front of God and everybody.”

  “Too true, Dieter.”

  They marched into the house and up to the third floor to collect the rest of the gear. Rolf lay on the floor, moaning. There were marks on his face that Dieter doubted were caused by his fall to the floor. He wondered if Jette had made things even more unpleasant for the SS man over the past several minutes.

  “Are you ready, Jette?”

  “Almost.”

  She turned and aimed a well-placed kick to Rolf’s crotch. He didn’t react.

  “Oh, I almost forgot. You can’t feel anything down there anymore. Too bad.” She then wound up and kicked him in the face. Blood spurted from his nose, and he moaned again. “I hope you stay in pain for a long time before you join your friends in hell.”

  “That’s enough, Jette,” Dieter said, feeling somewhat repulsed by her actions.

  He took her arm and pulled her out of the room. As they came down the stairs and walked along the second-floor hallway, Florian came out of Frau Hohltaube’s room carrying the rest of the foodstuffs.

  “Is that everything, Flor?”

  “It is. We must be off.”

  “Indeed.”

  They walked outside to the Horch. Dieter was getting ready just to toss the things in the back of the car.

  “Wait,” Florian said. “We don’t have a lot of time, but we have some. Let’s get things packed properly.”

  “Do we have everything out of the KdF Wagen?” Jette asked.

  “Yes,” Florian replied, “I took care of that.”

  Jette had grabbed a flashlight from one of the dead Gestapo agents and trained it on the open trunk as Florian packed things in.

  “All right. That’s it,” he said. “Let’s go. Jette, you ride in front. I’ll be in the back. Dieter is our pilot.”

  The three assumed their places in the big touring car, and Dieter studied the controls.

  “There’s no gearbox, I think,” Dieter said. “There is a switch for forward and reverse. No clutch or shifter.”

  “Okay, okay,” Florian called out. “Just get us on the road.”

  Dieter switched on the lights, and then moved the control lever to make the car go forward, and pressed the accelerator. The big vehicle ran smoothly away from the curb. As he glanced out the side window, he saw people watching out the windows of the rooming house. He thought he would probably never see this place again.

  The End

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Ward Wagher lives in Greenville, South Carolina with his wife. A former college professor and an Information Technology executive, Wagher writes Adult Christian Fiction and Christian Science-Fiction.

  Visit Ward’s web site at www.wardwagher.com. He can be reached at ward.wagher@gmail.com