North Reich (10 page)

With that, Koenig was dismissed.
 
As he left von Arnim’s office, he stifled a grin.
 
He was confident that the touchy and vain general would not admit that a mere captain had possibly thought of something that no one else had.

Downing called the senior members of his small staff together.
 
Along with Tom Grant, this included Major Fred Bryce, U.S. Army Air Force, and Army Major Al Neumann.
 
Both were slightly senior to Tom.
 
A number of captains and lieutenants, along with a score of clerks, also worked with the group, but were not invited to attend.

      
Downing smiled and waved a piece of paper.
 
"Our Canadian friends came through for us.
 
Either they didn't get the memo that they weren't supposed to cooperate, or the RCMP didn't give a crap.
 
At any rate, they identified the clown who killed Corporal Henry and injured Lieutenant Cutter and Corporal Wilkins as a Toronto resident and petty thief named Paul Munro.
 
My contact also and very unofficially said that Munro was a member of the Canadian Legion and that he had two brothers.
 
We can safely assume that they were the other two men involved and that we will never see them again."

      
The men smiled.
 
They'd had the D.C. police send a photo of the corpse up north as if nothing other than a simple robbery involving a possible Canadian citizen had occurred.
 
It had taken a couple of days, but the very efficient Royal Canadian Mounted Police had responded professionally as usual.

      
Tom was pleased, too.
 
Alicia's observation that their accents were Canadian had borne fruit.
 
It further meant that the Germans were indeed very likely behind the attack.
 
The only question was what did it mean?
 
Obviously, the Nazis were very interested in what was going on at Camp Washington, which was clearly an intelligence gathering operation.

      
"I think it was a dumb thing for them to do," Downing added.
 
"Almost as foolish as Tom here swimming the Great Lakes."

      
Tom grinned.
 
"That hurt, sir, almost as much as my shoulder does."

      
Downing ignored him.
 
"It does mean that couriers from Camp Washington will be very heavily armed and protected.
 
From here on in we will not be using women as messengers."

      
Ouch, Tom thought.
 
That meant he wouldn't be seeing Alicia Cutter anytime soon.
 
Too bad.
 
With her injuries healing, he was finding her more and more attractive.
 
He hadn't done anything about that discovery, however, since the significant difference in their ranks might make any kind of social activity awkward at best.
 
If he asked her out, she might feel that he was putting pressure on her.
 
She might feel compelled to go out with him if only to keep him from pestering her, and he didn't want that.

      
He snapped back to reality.
 
Downing had begun speaking again.
 
"At the orders of Generals Eisenhower and Truscott, we are to begin what he calls brainstorming sessions.
 
Nothing new in that, but they are to include reps from the navy.

      
Bryce snickered.
 
"That means we'll have to use very small words and speak slowly, colonel."

      
Downing shook his head.
 
Fred Bryce was a former fighter pilot and had a reputation as a joker.
 
"Somehow, I think they feel the very same way about us.
 
Regardless, we'll be among a number of such groups who will be trying to figure out just what the hell the krauts are up to."

      
Yeah, Tom thought, and I'd like to know what Alicia Cutter is up to.

      
"When we are done," Downing continued, “we will put our thoughts on paper and submit them to General Truscott."
 

Bryce laughed.
 
"The writer of the winning essay gets a big hug from General Marshall.
 
Second place is two big hugs."

Downing sighed and continued.
 
"When we sit down to do this, remember that there are no such things as bad ideas.
 
Even the most unlikely thought should be talked out.
 
Don't feel constrained by anything.
 
Obviously, Bryce isn't."

"Of course we will cooperate, captain," Neumann said with a tight smile.
 
Koenig was not impressed.
 
The Gestapo officer's eyes were cold as ice.

      
"We in the Gestapo always cooperate with the Wehrmacht, and I know that the army is on our side as well.
 
Sometimes, however, I'm concerned that some army officers do not think the Jewish menace is as big a problem as others do.
 
I'm speaking, of course, of the emphasis on ridding the world of Jews that both the Fuhrer and Heinrich Himmler think is appropriate and imperative."

      
Koenig was about to respond when Neumann shushed him with a wave of his hand.
 
They were in Neumann's office at the place outside Toronto that was referred to as The Farm.
 
It was ringed with barbed wire and there were guards, and sentries patrolling and protecting it.
 
Whatever was going on, Koenig thought, Neumann clearly thought it was important.

      
Neumann continued.
 
"I will cheerfully admit that the attack on the courier was ill-advised and will not be repeated.
 
However, it was requested by the assistant military attaché in Washington, your friend Captain Stahl.”

      
Koenig suppressed a shudder.
 
How the hell did Neumann know that Stahl was his friend?
 
Shit.
 

      
"Come, Captain Koenig, let me show you what our real work involves."

      
Neumann led Koenig down a hallway to a locker room where he instructed him to put on a shapeless smock and a hood.
 
"When we interrogate people, it helps so much if they can't see us or recognize us later.
 
Now, you will doubtless see some things that will shock you or even disgust you; however, there is a method behind the apparent cruelty.
 
Whatever happens, you will remain utterly silent.
 
Others will be with us, but only I will speak.
 
Understand?"

      
Koenig stiffened as they entered an adjacent room.
 
A plain and plump young woman was strapped to the arms and legs of an awkward looking chair.
 
Her arms and legs were spread apart.
 
She was naked and shivering.
 
Her eyes widened in terror as she saw hooded men entering and staring at her.
 
She had urinated on the floor.

      
Neumann spoke.
 
"We will do this as quickly as possible and then you can go home.
 
Understand?"

      
The girl nodded.
 
"Speak!" Neumann commanded.

Neumann’s tone demanded a response as if she was a dog, and she managed a weak yes.

      
"Good.
 
Your name is Mary Bradford, is it not, and you work for the American consulate in Toronto, true?"

      
"Yes."

      
"Good.
 
Now, you have an older sister who is twenty-four and a younger one who is eleven, correct?"

      
"Yes."

      
"Excellent.
 
Now, you are a mail clerk in the consulate which means you see what comes and goes.
 
We require your cooperation.
 
We will give you a list of things to look out for while you are sorting and delivering mail.
 
It may be necessary for some items to be delayed while either you or one of my men looks at them."

      
"But that would be a crime, sir," Mary stammered.

      
Neumann sighed behind his mask.
 
"Stand her up."

      
Two guards released her and pulled her to her feet.
 
One punched her hard in the stomach and, as she doubled over, the second grabbed her hair and violently yanked it back.
 
She tried to scream and retch at the same time.
 
She was pushed back on to the chair and strapped in.

      
"Can you imagine this happening to your sisters? What happens to you will happen to them as well.”
 
He held up a long handled pair of pliers for her to see.
 
"These will be for your teeth.
 
One at a time will be pulled and there will not be an anesthetic, of course."
 

One of the hooded men opened her mouth and Neumann pushed the pliers inside where he skillfully held a tooth in its grasp.
 
"Smaller pliers, pincers, will remove your fingernails and toenails, again one at a time and at scheduled periods so you can sit and wait for the agony to begin anew.
 
You cannot imagine the pain you will have to endure if you do not obey me, and remember that the same agonies will be inflicted on your family."
 

He removed the pliers from her mouth and had her guards stand her up again.
 
The two guards began to stroke her breasts and buttocks.
 
She screamed and writhed.

"Are you a virgin, Mary Bradford?"
 
She whimpered that she was and
Neumann laughed.
 
"Now, Mary Bradford, do you understand what will happen to your family if you don't cooperate.
 
Along with what I just described, you'll be sitting there watching them be raped.
 
Your sister might handle it, but an eleven year old girl?
 
I wonder.
 
A few good hard German cocks might just tear her apart.
 
Of course your turn will come afterwards while they watch. Do you have a boyfriend?"
 
Mary nodded that she did.
 
"Wonderful. Maybe we'll invite him in to watch the show as well. So you will cooperate, won't you?"

She nodded and murmured a yes.

"You may be the last virgin in Canada, and you will remain that way.
 
However, you will give these men," he pointed to his thugs, "something to seal the bargain.
 
You will suck their dicks.
 
Understand?"
 
Mary moaned and again nodded her head.
 
“And if you do anything to hurt them, your pain will be beyond belief.”

Koenig watched in disgust as, in anguish, she was released from the chair and performed on the two hooded men.
 
When done, she slumped down to the floor and sobbed hysterically.
 
Neumann instructed his men to give her back her clothes and possessions and told her to take a shower.
 
After which, she would be driven back to the apartment from which she'd been snatched the evening before.
 
She was told to go to work on Monday as if nothing happened.
 

As if she could, Koenig thought.
 
He’d committed his share of what many would define as atrocities, but they were against Slavs and Jews, people Hitler defined as less than human, which meant they didn’t count.
 
In Koenig’s opinion, Canadians were too close to Aryan for what had happened to the girl to be comfortable.

Neumann wanted to talk some more, so they returned to the Gestapo commander's office.
 
Neumann prattled on about the greatness of Hitler and the inevitability of the Reich's triumph against the decadent west because it was filled with Negroes and Jews.
 
Koenig agreed that there were numbers of Jews who were in charge of banking and the movie industry, and that this had to change.
 
Indeed, it would change.

"No such mongrel race has ever succeeded," Neumann said.
 
"By the way, were you impressed by our technique with the girl?
 
We took her on a Friday night, so she wasn't missed.
 
Even her boyfriend was out of town.
 
Nor did we really hurt her, at least not physically.
 
There will be no major bruises and she'll have no one to complain to.
 
We broke her mentally and she will obey completely since she fully understands the consequences of failure or disobedience.
 
The German Army may conquer nations, but the Gestapo conquers people."

Koenig was about to leave when one of Neumann's guards barged in.
 
"Sir, the girl has killed herself."