B005H8M8UA EBOK Read online

“These are beauties,” he exclaimed to Anderson.

  Anderson slapped him on the back. “Brings back old times don’t they,” he said to his friend. “I already called the Daimler Benz plant. I’m getting them to come in and totally refurbish this one,” he said pointing to the Mercedes. “The Rolls I am getting checked out and reworked locally and the Volkswagen will be taken to Wolfsburg. They seemed very interested in getting it back there,” he said.

  “It should be interesting to see who actually owned these things,” Dresner said staring at the tag number of the Mercedes. “I remember seeing these before the war. Seemed like all the big leaders had one,” he said. “I remember when…” Dresner stopped talking and stared again at the front of the car. He walked to the passenger seat, opened the door and stared up at the back of the windshield. There was a chrome hand hold above the visor. Then he looked at the floor of the car. There was a carpeted box just a few inches tall sticking out from under the seat.

  Dresner closed his eyes as his mind flashed back twenty six years when he had taken a day from classes to go to see the parades. “Nuremburg,” he said slowly and softly with his eyes closed.

  Al Anderson knew something was wrong. He reached out and took his friend by the arm to steady him if needed. Dresner’s eyes opened and he stared at his friend. There was fear in the eyes, something Anderson had never seen. “What’s wrong, Rolf?”

  Dresner shook his head slowly almost wishing he had seen a mirage. “I could be mistaken, but I don’t think so,” he said quietly. “I have seen this car before,” he said.

  “So?”

  “You don’t understand. The last time I saw this car, it was taking Adolf Hitler through the streets of Nuremburg to the Nazi party rallies in 1936.”

  Letter Number 36

  September 1, 1962

  My Dearest Anna,

  Thank you for letting me know Dad, Mom and Sis are fine. They left home last month to fix up the new place and we don’t hear much from them. When I talked to Dad last time he gave me a mountain of work to do for the company and said they were saving everything for a surprise when I get back there. So I’m here trying to keep everything going while they have all the fun. My latest project is to design a building to house the mainframe computer at my old school, Virginia Tech. They are purchasing a new Sperry-Univac computer to help them with their planning and administration. Just designing the floors to hold these things is a task. The wiring alone is tremendous. So far they like the plans.

  That was interesting news about the helicopter pilot who went missing. As a pilot, I know how easy it could be to get lost or have an accident. In some of those mountains he could be missing for decades. I’m sorry he was a friend of your father.

  How is the job going? I hope it is all you wanted. I understand you have already left your mark at the facility. Dad said you were helping them try and find asteroids. I think that’s great. I always knew I had a smart girl.

  I’m also sorry I haven’t been able to get back there more. After graduation, Dad put me to work and it just hasn’t let up. But they want me to come back in October to see the place after the final touches. I told them I was coming anyway, just to see you. I miss you so much! I sit up and re-read your letters each night. It makes me feel we are at least together for a short while.

  When I do get back, could we do some traveling together? I would like to take the trains and tour around Europe some. Even if it’s on the weekends I would be happy. I just want to have time with you alone. Just the two of us. You know my feelings haven’t changed and by your letters, yours haven’t either.

  I am talking to Dad about being there during the Olympics. Dad is getting tickets to the venues and we could both go and enjoy it. By then I think we need to discuss our future together and maybe make some plans. You know what I mean.

  It’s 11:30 here and time for me to get to bed. But I had to dash off another letter to you. You know you are always on my mind and in my heart. I can’t wait till we are back together.

  All my love,

  Eric

  Anna re-read the letter just before going to sleep. This one had arrived after only two weeks. With each letter Eric had grown deeper into her heart. The first one he had handed to her just before getting on the plane and returning home. It had promised at least one letter a week. He had doubled that. In the letters he shared his days and his feelings for her. If he continued that kind of communication after they were married, she would be very happy. Anna was thinking about marriage more and more often now. Though he had not formally asked her they both knew it was a matter of time.

  Eric was also full of surprises. The first one was on the day she graduated from the university. Like all the graduates, she looked for her parents in the crowd. She was more than shocked when she saw Eric seated with them. It was almost all she could do to keep from breaking out of the line and rushing to him. After the ceremony when everyone met outside he was with them holding a large bouquet of roses. Unfortunately, he could only stay the weekend and then had to return home. She remembered how tired he looked when she saw him. But he brushed off her concerns and they spent as much time together as possible.

  The second surprise was a simple phone call on her birthday. Overseas calls were terribly expensive, but he had done it just to hear the sound of her voice. Although it was only for about six minutes, she would never forget how good he sounded.

  Anna folded the letter and put it in her bedside drawer along with the others. She had to get some sleep. Her job demanded concentration and she always gave 100 percent. She drifted off to sleep thinking abut how it felt with Eric’s arms around her and the kiss that always thrilled.

  Dr. Ingles looked over the shoulder of the young technician as he put the finishing touches on the electronics. Things were so much more advanced than they had been during the war. Transistors were making things so much lighter and more efficient. The Americans had designed this package and despite all his tests, it had maintained its reliability. There had been six of the units on the truck they had stolen - just enough for their needs. The technician unplugged the test equipment and looked at the doctor. “It is working perfectly Herr Doctor,” he said.

  “Very good. Have it installed immediately. When the others are checked get them installed as well. This is working out quite well,” the doctor said.

  The electronics package was actually mounted on a ring so that it would better fit the machinery. It had taken some time to modify the package, but as long as it worked, it would not matter that they had made the changes. The use of the new unit had also meant that the power needs were changed. The voltages were much lower now and as a result, the battery life was greatly extended. Again, it hadn’t made that much difference since the unit would only be working for a short period of time, but it was one less headache in the process.

  Doctor Ingles walked down the hall and knocked at a door. When he entered, General Hans Kammler looked up from the papers on his desk. His face was wrinkled and lined. There appeared to be little color in it, mostly because he had spent the past several years virtually underground. The doctor’s appearance brought a smile. “Herr Doctor, come in. How are the tests going?”

  “Quite well Herr General. The first package has checked out and we are making the modifications and installing the new packages over the next few days. Within a week, everything will be ready,” said Ingles confidently.

  Kammler smiled. “That is very good. Now if we can get our fuel, we should be ready for anything. My sources in the Soviet Union tell me the Cuban installations are nearly complete. I would say within a month, we will see some reaction.” The general came from behind his desk and placed his hand on the doctor’s shoulders. “After all these years our patience will pay off, my friend. Soon there will be a new world order, and we shall be at the top,” he said cordially. The two men had been working together since before the war ended and they both savored the coming victory for the New Reich.

  The young accountant c
hecked the figures for the tenth time and sat back and rubbed his chin. For some reason the plant had used twice the nitric acid they normally used to produce fertilizer in August. Then in September the usage rate had returned to normal. There was no indication in the records for the additional use and since it returned to normal it probably wasn’t a leak. There was probably some explanation but it was his job to make sure.

  The Prost Chemical Plant had been making fertilizer and a few other agricultural products sine 1898. It was a family business and the Prost family had a reputation for being what the English would call the Ebenezer Scrooge of fertilizer. If there was a penny to be saved, they would do it. This didn’t mean the products were shoddy. On the contrary, the company’s agricultural products were the best around and the penny pinching was passed to the customers instead of into the owner’s pockets. To save on some costs it was found they could rely on suppliers to make sure the raw materials were on hand in sufficient quantities to maintain production. When levels went down, deliveries were increased or decreased to maintain those levels.

  It didn’t take long before the accountant’s discovery was on the desk of Wilhelm Prost, the great grandson of the founder and president of the company. “Did you check with the supplier to verify the figures?” he asked quietly.

  “Yes, Herr Prost. We also inspected the system to make sure there hadn’t been any leaks. We could find no explanation at all,” said Fredrick Papen, his vice president for logistics. “That’s why I came to you. I don’t know who would need it, but it appears we have had a theft.”

  Prost sat back in his chair for a moment. “But what else can you use nitric acid for?” he pondered.

  Papen thought a moment. “Well, you can etch glass with it. You can use it on metals. You clean things with it, but not at that strength. Besides chemicals, there is not much use, especially around here,” he said.

  Prost nodded. “Yes, but look at the amount. That could only mean an industrial use unless you wanted to dissolve a building.” That thought sparked his imagination. “Do you suppose someone might be planning some sort of sabotage? Use it on a dam or bridge?” he asked suddenly concerned.

  “But here? If the Soviets were planning something, they wouldn’t be here, and they wouldn’t need to steal it,” Papen said.

  “Yes, but there are all sorts of small groups that might start something. This isn’t some sort of theft of a tool or a bag of fertilizer for a garden. It is thousands of gallons of acid. I think we’ll call this one in to the police,” Prost said. He picked up the phone and dialed the number himself.

  Kurt Dresner was not having a good month. Besides his normal work routine, his office was still searching for a downed helicopter pilot who went missing six weeks before. The Americans were still scouring the area for a missing truck filled with spare parts for their military and now he was on his way to the fertilizer plant where it appeared someone stole a lake full of acid. The only good thing for the month was that his friend Al Anderson was finishing up his house, despite finding out about two of his cars.

  The Mercedes had indeed been purchased by the German government in 1936 for Hitler, and it had been used until the war when it appeared to have been lost in the myriad of vehicles owned by the government. Why it had turned up here had been a mystery until the Volkswagen arrived in Wolfsburg. Someone checked the serial numbers and tag on it as well. It had been presented to Hitler by Ferdinand Porsche as the first “People’s Car” to come rolling out of the plant. There were even photos of it during the presentation and with Hitler riding in it.

  The Rolls had no documentation at all. With two cars belonging to Hitler in one place, Dresner agreed with Anderson that this was some sort of getaway house and speculated that the house might have been for Borman or one of the other high party leaders who went missing after the war. It really made no difference. It had been seventeen years since the war ended. Hitler’s own home, as with many of the Nazi hierarchy, was a bombed out cinder. Anderson agreed. He decided that the cars belonged in a museum and gave them to the respective companies.

  As for the house itself, Dresner had been genuinely impressed. Using a small army of workers, Anderson and his wife had transformed the place into a palace. Dresner chuckled to himself that only an American would get that enthusiastic over an old stone building. But it would be very nice having his friend living in the area. They had already planned on taking some excursions to see some of the places they had shut down after the war. In about three weeks his son Eric would be coming to see the new house and work in their European office a while. Maybe the workload would lighten by that time.

  The Prost Chemical Company was a lump of metal that marred almost all the valley floor. There wasn’t much color. The brick and metal sides of the building were discolored from years of smoky abuse. What was once painted was now a dingy gray that was streaked from fall rains. Some said even the snow on the peaks surrounding the plant was an ashen mix of gray and brown.

  Dresner drove through the gate and parked in a visitor’s spot. He was escorted to Herr Prost’s office quickly and efficiently. Prost was at his desk waiting. He got up and shook Dresner’s hand.

  “I’m sorry to have to call you Rolf, but it appears we have had a theft.” Prost knew everyone in Innsbruck and he had made sure to make friends with the local police along the way. Although he and Dresner would occasionally share a beer, they were not close friends.

  Dresner looked around the office. The furniture was at least ten years old and in some places a little worn. The desk had neat stacks of files with what was probably exactly three inches of space between the stacks. There were windows behind his desk, but they were shuttered closed. The fluorescent desk lamp bolted to the desk glowed, casting a blue-green tint to the surroundings. Dresner saw efficiency, but not much imagination. Since Prost had remained standing he also knew this would be a quick meeting. “Please tell me what led you to that conclusion,” Dresner said.

  Prost handed over a file with copies of the accounting and supply documents and explained their thought process. Dresner took some notes and flipped quickly through the documents before placing them in his briefcase.

  “That is what we have Inspector. You have open access to our facilities and I ask that you keep us informed as to your progress. Do you have questions?” Prost asked.

  Dresner nodded briefly. “I agree with your conclusion and will possibly have hundreds of questions, but not involving you Herr Prost. First I shall speak to your security team and then the supply accountants involved. I will be happy to provide you with the outcome of the investigation and will contact you if I acquire any difficulties,” he said officially. Then he smiled lightly. “I am certain we shall get to the bottom of this. With luck I shall have an answer for you soon,” he said extending his hand. Prost shook it again and returned to his desk. Dresner left the office and the secretary ushered him to the office of the Chief of Security.

  Joachim Mantz welcomed Dresner into his office and the two sat down. Mantz was in his forties but was as fit as any youth. His file said he was from a small town in eastern Austria and had been drafted into the army during the war. Outwardly he was a jovial man who loved to laugh. His handshake would crush rocks and Dresner noticed a small orange discoloration on his hand as he extended it. “Herr Prost said someone would be coming over. My staff is yours whenever you need them,” he said warmly.

  Dresner smiled and waved a hand. “Nothing that serious. I really need to know what kind of procedures are in place to prevent a theft like this from happening. Can you take me around to see the area and show me your operations?”

  Mantz rose and escorted Dresner to a waiting golf cart. The cart whisked them between buildings to the rail yard. In a far corner, there were three refrigerated tanker rail carriers lined up in front of a tank and a set of pumps. The road ran to the other side of the pumps where there were connections to fill or empty trucks as well. One of the rail cars was next to the pumps offloading aci
d.

  “The trains pull through that gate down there and are pushed to this position. They are here about 48 hours and then the empty cars are taken out and new ones brought in. A supplier representative is supposed to come in once a week and measure the amount in the main tank. He varies the amount delivered depending on how much is in the tank,” Mantz said. “Our logistics people couple the cars to the drains for pumping and pump until the tank is full or the cars are empty. This takes about a day. The train comes a day later and takes the empty cars away. Any partially emptied cars are left till the next shipment. Our people open the gates for the train and are here for all the deliveries,” Mantz said.

  “What about when the trains aren’t here and your people aren’t pumping?” Dresner asked.

  Mantz ran his hand through his graying hair. “Actually, we don’t stand a guard on it. This stuff will eat a man alive within a few minutes so no one really wants to be around it. Look at this,” he said as he led Dresner over to the platform. The workman was dressed in a rubberized suit and there was a mist of water above him. He warned them back from the platform.

  “See the water mist? We keep it on all the time someone is there just to dilute anything that might spill. It also keeps the fumes down. In an emergency, the worker grabs that lever and pulls it. The mist becomes a forceful spray where any acid can be washed away quickly. You can see why no one really wants to be around here,” Mantz explained.

  Dresner nodded. The idea of getting splashed by something that would eat you alive frightened the hell out of him. “Is there a watchtower in the yard?”

  Mantz pointed to what looked like a camera on a pole nearby. “There are eight cameras in the yard and I have a man with a remote control for the water sitting in an office. He watches anyone out here.”

  Dresner nodded. “I’ll need to talk to the operators, but this looks pretty good to me,” he said. Dresner doubted people really watched what was going on, especially when no one was supposed to be there, but for now he would take the man’s word it was done. Before he left, Dresner looked at the level marker on the side of the tank next to the steel ladder. It looked like any normal level indicator and when he tried to move it, he could feel when the float inside touched the liquid. Then he climbed to the top of the tank and looked at how it went inside. As he climbed, he noticed the rubberized metal cable seemed to be crimped about two thirds of the way up. At the top, the metal was very corroded except for one place where the tube going into the tank looked slightly pressed together. In the flat areas there were teeth marks from some metal tool. There were more marks around the top of the tube where it looked like someone had tried to straighten it back out as much as possible. Taking mental notes, he looked down at Mantz. “This is a simple float mechanism,” he asked.