Agent of Vengeance

by Scott M Neuman

  “Really, Dr. Death?” Fletcher’s blood was boiling. “What about all the Jews you experimented on, huh?” He crushed Schreiber’s neck in a vise grip until he the German slumped to the ground.

  Fletcher turned towards Das Maschine. This device represented the source of Fletcher’s burning desire for revenge. It was controlled by Adolf Hitler, whose order set off the chain of events that led to his beloved Mary’s death. This evil machine was the reason Fletcher’s children would be growing up without their mother. Now, it says that it killed everyone in Israel. Destroying it would be too small a punishment.

  Fletcher approached Das Maschine and addressed it. “Well, it’s time for me to judge the Reich Gott. I find you guilty. Any last words?”

  Hitler spoke, “You American Jew lover. I curse you and your country.”

  Fletcher said. “Your first punishment will be that I rip out these two boxes so you can never hear or speak again. Your second punishment will be excruciating pain. How do you like that?”

  Fletcher tore the two small boxes from the wires connecting them to Das Maschine and smashed them on to the concrete floor of the stage. Then he reached for the dial and turned it slowly toward the lowest setting. A string of threats and expletives in German exploded from the teletype printer. Fletcher yanked out the cord connecting Das Maschine to the teletype, stopping the output. He then completed turning the dial to the level of ultimate pain.

  Examining Das Maschine, Fletcher looked for its power source. There was an electrical cord that ran to a battery on the floor. A note in German attached to the battery stated that it had been connected the previous day and had enough power for one week.

  Fletcher turned to the frogmen. “You two are in charge of this box. We’re taking it with us.” He then walked over to Mueller’s body and picked up the book of codes, placing it in his bag.

  Yitzhak Sofer, commander of the Israeli frogmen, arrived. “All opposition outside the Reich Temple has been eliminated. We have a clear corridor to South Clover.”

  “Got it. Let’s move the men out. We need two guys to assist Rabbi Cohen. Also, get a group of your boys to help transport this machine here. Don’t tell the Americans what it is, just get it to your government.”

  “I’ll take that as an order,” said Sofer, saluting Fletcher.

  Outside the Reich Temple, the complex was ablaze with tracer bullets and laser beams as the Edge squadrons and Marine units mopped up the remaining Gestapo and SS resistance.

  At the Broder Laboratory, opposition was fierce. Already a dozen Marines had been killed by cannon fire from the fortified platforms around the lab entrance. Bronot and Joshua had joined the large force taking cover behind nearby buildings.

  Joshua instinctively understood the solution was to eliminate the cannon platforms. He went up to one of the Black Beret sergeants who had earlier communicated with him in sign language and signed that he knew where the entrance to the cannon platforms was located. The Sergeant took five of his men and followed Joshua.

  When the Black Berets arrived, they noticed that the door had been left unguarded. The Sergeant and his men shot the lock off the door and climbed the ladder. The SS gunners at the cannon were taken completely by surprise as the Black Beret commandos eliminated them without sustaining any casualties. A short time later, the Marines and Black Berets secured the area surrounding the lab facility. The Marines were then ordered to go to South Clover for evacuation.

  The Edge unit then cruised to the fortified steel laboratory door. Focusing their laser weapons at the door, they burned through a man-sized hole. The Black Berets then entered the area. The lab was deserted. The commando carrying the atomic device placed it next to a sealed door with multiple biohazard warning signs. He set the device for 12:00 noon. Their mission was now complete. The Edge and Black Berets headed toward the elevator entrance in South Clover. When they arrived, they found that the area was protected by a handful of remaining Marines.

  The last troops were lifted to the surface, where a few remaining helicopters were waiting. At 11:50 a.m., they took off. They were twenty miles out when a tremendous explosion rocked the sands of the Sahara. Project Valhalla and the Fourth Reich were no more.

  29

  Just prior to Operation Nemesis, about forty thousand Israeli soldiers, both reservists and those in active duty, had been called up to the North of Israel. They cordoned off Lake Kinneret and evacuated the City of Tiberias and all of the surrounding villages and towns. No one was allowed within a 20-mile radius. Additionally, all water pipes and canals leading from the Kinneret were shut off. The Jordan River was dammed in both directions, with giant portable pumps set up to collect runoff water and recycle it to the lake. This operation effectively isolated the cylinder.

  Since Israeli scientists at the secret biological warfare complex near the Dead Sea had observed that once separated from its bacterial host the prion contained in the cylinder was inactive after 24 hours, it was decided that the best course of action would be to allow the cylinder to open and let it run its course. Fletcher’s discovery that the third cylinder had been placed in the Kinneret allowed the Israeli authorities to formulate a plan that would protect Israel’s citizens without any effort to jam the signal or recover the cylinder. Thus, the coded signal sent gleefully by Hitler led to the release of the agent but did not cause any harm.

  Two weeks after Operation Nemesis, Ronald Fletcher drove from Ben Gurion Airport to Kibbutz Galuyot, translated as the Gathering of the Exiles, in the center of the Galilee region. During those two weeks, Fletcher had been quite busy, He had originally returned to Israel on one of the Hercules transport planes carrying the Jews of Project Valhalla. The President of the United States ordered Air Force One to be placed at Fletcher’s disposal. He used the plane to take his family back home to the United States. Mary’s body was placed in a stainless-steel coffin for the flight. The plane landed at Chicago’s O’Hare Airport and the Fletcher family received a military escort to Kenosha, Wisconsin. Two days later, Mary Fletcher was buried in a private ceremony at a small cemetery near the shores of Lake Michigan.

  Fletcher spent the next eight days with his children in a large log cabin he had built by hand some years earlier near the Dells resort area in central Wisconsin. There the three began the painful process of adjustment without Mary. Afterwards, the three returned to Kenosha. Fletcher left the children in their grandparents’ care as he prepared to finally bring a close to this tragic period of his life. When Fletcher arrived at the main gate of Kibbutz Galuyot, he was stopped by two Shin Bet guards. When they saw that it was Ronald Fletcher, they gave him a salute and waived him through.

  Fletcher was pleased with the natural beauty of the newly founded agricultural settlement. It was a lush paradise. Fletcher drove to the Director’s Office. There, he entered to find Rachel Bronot and Rabbi Gershon Cohen.

  “It’s so good to see you, Ron!” Bronot said.

  “How are you, Mr. Fletcher?” asked the Rabbi.

  “I’m doing just fine. How is it to be living in Israel?”

  “It’s a dream come true. The land is even more beautiful than I ever imagined, Also the people. What can say? It’s like coming home to family. They have opened their hearts to us.”

  “How is Joshua?”

  “Well, tonight he’s going to marry Miriam according to Jewish Law. I will be preforming my first wedding ceremony in over forty years. Joshua has asked if you could be his best man.”

  “Of course. I’m honored.”

  “Ron,” Rachel said. “I don’t know if you heard. Last week, Miriam gave birth to Joshua’s son. He’s very cute. You’ll get to see him tonight!”

  A warm feeling overcame Fletcher. Then he turned to Rabbi Cohen. “What are your future plans?”

  “Well, the government has been very helpful to us. They have sent doctors, teachers, psychologists, dieticians, just about every kind of expert they have to help us adjust to a life of freedom in the modern world. They say
we will be much better off in a year or two. Those who wish to stay here will become part of the Kibbutz, and anyone who does not will be given assistance to settle anywhere in Israel that they choose.

  “As for me, I will remain here as their spiritual advisor. These poor souls are born Jews, but they have no idea what that means.”

  “Don’t be so modest, Rabbi Cohen,” Bronot interrupted. “When word leaked out that the great Rabbi Gershon Cohen survived the Holocaust and was now living in Israel, the country’s rabbinical leaders demanded that he be immediately appointed Chief Rabbi of Israel. You see, Rabbi Cohen is considered the world’s foremost authority on Jewish Law. Even our present Chief Rabbi was pushing for his own replacement. He said that he was just a child in his scholarship next to Rabbi Cohen.”

  “I should only have such children!” Rabbi Cohen said, laughing. “In any case, I have decided for the time being to stay here and take care of my people. We already have plans to build a yeshiva.”

  Fletcher said, “I would like to let you know I didn’t come empty-handed. I have a gift for the new immigrants from Project Valhalla.”

  Rabbi Cohen looked at Fletcher. You shouldn’t feel obligated to give us anything. You’ve already given us the greatest gift, our freedom.”

  “Well,” said Fletcher, “The gift isn’t exactly from me. Let’s call it war reparations from Nazi Germany.”

  “What are you talking about?” Bronot said, perplexed.

  “Do you remember when I asked you to make that short stop in Tripoli on the way to Martyrs’ square?”

  “You mean in front of the Umma Bank?” Bronot recalled vaguely.

  “That’s right. When I rifled through Rajad’s pockets, I found an envelope with a safety deposit key and a note that said “Umma Bank.” So I decided to make a pickup. I practiced copying Rajad’s signature from his driver’s license a few times, and I showed his I.D. to the clerk, telling him Rajad sent me. In his safety deposit box I found ten packets filled with diamonds.”

  Bronot asked, “You didn’t want to just keep them?”

  “Well, you might say it just didn’t feel kosher,” said Fletcher, eliciting laughs from Bronot and Rabbi Cohen.

  Fletcher continued, “Yesterday I was in Switzerland and sold the diamonds. With the money, I opened up an account in the Kibbutz’s name. I figure that even at slave labor rates, the Jews at Valhalla definitely earned it.”

  “How much money are we talking about?” Bronot inquired.

  A little over fifteen million dollars.” Fletcher answered. “If you are looking for ideas about what to do with the money, let me make a suggestion. I was speaking to an old friend of mine from the University of Chicago. He’s now the head of ear, nose, and throat surgery at the medical school. He’s been working with a biomedical engineering company to help out patients who needed to have their tongues removed because of cancer surgery.

  “His team has designed a prosthetic tongue that can be implanted and is capable or replacing all the functions of a natural tongue. He assured me that the operation is safe. Moreover, he is willing to send a team to perform the surgery. All you would have to pay for would be the production of the artificial tongues. I did a rough estimate and it came out to about ten million dollars for all of the survivors. That will leave enough over to help build schools, yeshivas, whatever you want.”

  “That’s fantastic!” Bronot said.

  “You are truly a friend,” said Rabbi Gershon Cohen, teary-eyed.

  “Ron, let me show you around the kibbutz,” said Bronot.

  “Sounds great. Best of luck, Rabbi Cohen!”

  The two walked down a dirt road lined by citrus trees. Bronot spoke first. “There was a big controversy regarding the man in the box. There were cabinet meetings about it all week long. They voted to put Hitler on trial in front of the entire world.”

  “Another Eichmann affair?” Fletcher asked.

  “Exactly. However, the Supreme Court ruled in a private session that a machine cannot be considered a human. Therefore, no trial. In fact, they ruled the Israeli Government must maintain the apparatus at its present level until the brain stops functioning.”

  Bronot grinned and added, “The Prime Minister was particularly delighted with this decision.”

  “Why?” asked Fletcher.

  “Simple. Thanks to you, the dial is currently set at ultimate pain. The Prime Minister considers this worse than any death penalty. He ordered that Das Maschine be sealed within a steel box without any door. The box is in a room underneath the Knesset building.

  “A hole was drilled through the bottom of the box to allow an electric cord to feed power to Das Maschine. Our scientists believe that as long as the flow of electricity remains constant, Das Maschine should function indefinitely, perhaps, forever.”

  Fletcher remarked, “Isn’t it ironic that Hitler’s journey started in the Fuhrerbunker underneath the Reich Chancellery, and ended in a bunker under Israel’s Knesset?”

  Fletcher stopped walking. He turned to Bronot. “I have a gift for you.”

  “Another gift?”

  “Well, this is really a gift to the State of Israel and the Jewish People.” Fletcher reached into his sport coat’s inner pocket and removed a yellow envelope. He handed it to Bronot.

  Bronot opened the envelope. Inside was a copy of the book of codes Fletcher had taken from Mueller. She was astounded.

  Fletcher explained, “This list contains the codes for all of the cylinders around the world, except for those planted in the United States and its protectorates.”

  “Why on earth would you give me this?” Bronot asked.

  Fletcher said, “We both know that it’s only a matter of time before Israel is confronted with a threat for which there is no solution. One day your country will be pressed against a wall and even your military won’t be able to bail you out. I for one don’t want to see another Holocaust befall your people. Let’s just call this your ‘Get out of jail’ card.”

  Bronot was not satisfied. “Ron, what’s your real reason?”

  Fletcher sighed. “I am a man who always pays his debts. I’m paying back a private debt to three wonderful human beings that saved the lives of my children: Shlomo Mizrachi, Yoram Cohen, and of course Zelda Steiner. Zelda, in particular, killed the man that murdered my wife. I will always remember them for their courage and self-sacrifice.”

  Bronot asked, “What are your plans, now that all this is behind you?”

  “After the wedding I’m going back to the States. The President has offered me a job as his personal intelligence advisor. I’ll be looking for a place near Washington, D.C. What about you?”

  “I’ve handed in my resignation. It’s time for me to move on. An old friend of mine has a small political party. He offered me the number three position on his party’s ticket in the next election. The party’s platform is strong defense and economic freedom. And, you know what? I always wanted to try my hand at politics.”

  “Rachel, I’ m going to miss you,” Fletcher said, sincerely.

  “I’m going to miss you more than you’ll ever know,” Bronot replied.

  The two turned and walked silently down a tractor path through a field of strawberries.

  30

  At 4:00 am, the orders of the Prime Minister of Israel were executed. The coded signals were broadcast, releasing the contents of the seven cylinders in Iran. The deadly Strain quickly spread, killing every person within Iran’s borders.

  At the same time, a letter was delivered to the Chief of Staff of the Army of the New United Nations.

  “The People of Israel have cried out to God beseeching him to save the offspring of Jacob from the evil forces of the world. Our Lord, Protector of Israel, has answered our prayers and has promised to destroy any nation that holds evil intentions against the Children of the Covenant. Behold the power of the God of Israel. Turn your eyes toward Iran to witness the wrath of the Lord of the Universe.”

  At 8:00 a.m., the Pri
me Minister of Israel accepted a phone call from the Director of the United States Central Intelligence Agency.

  “Hi, Mrs. Bronot. It’s Bobby, Ronald Fletcher’s son.”

  “So good to hear your voice, Bobby. I haven’t seen you since your father’s funeral last year. I hope everything’s fine.”

  “Well, Jane and I are still getting use to the idea that we’re now adult orphans. We miss him so much. But we’re sure he’s in a better place with Mother.”

  “What do you think?”

  “As far as your response, I’d say you played your part perfectly. I just finished speaking to President Michael Barnes and showed him the code book. It’s been sitting in the back of some Pentagon filing cabinet for all of those years.

  “Anyway, he was greatly relieved that the crisis is over. He received almost a hundred phone calls from different countries asking him to relay to you their regret and beg for forgiveness. Or, as one so-called leader said, ‘We wished we had come to Israel’s aid and not played along with those nasty anti-Semites.’”

  Prime Minister Bronot answered, “I talked to him earlier. I’m sure you know President Barnes and your father saved me from certain death on more than one occasion. How both Barnes and I ended up becoming the leaders of our respective nations, only God knows. Anyway, he mentioned that he has recently developed Ambassador Cranston’s penchant for visiting England as often as he can.”

  They both began to laugh. Bobby Fletcher said. “He’s not kidding, next month will make his third official visit to England this year. Anyway, he told me to tell you that the United States unofficially congratulates your boys in winning the psychological warfare game. I’ll tell you, I got goosebumps from reading your letter.”

  The Prime Minister became serious. “You know, Israel owes its existence today to your father. Even from the next world he managed to find a way to save my little country from destruction. As an old lady who has met some of the biggest personalities in the world over the years, I can tell you that your father was the best of the best.”