Part 4 (2/2)

Himmler stood and walked about the table. Every member of the Black Sun-the rulers of the German world-sat even straighter. All except Uhrwerk, who never made any move not deliberate and purposeful. Himmler allowed for the colonel's idiosyncrasies.

”A team of our scholar-soldiers-lead by Franz Altheim and his wife-were sent to the Balkans. Only Herr Altheim returned. He returned with, hmmm, something from a Gypsy camp in the Wallachia region. It was most peculiar and more than we could have hoped for, though it will take refinement to properly employ its power,” Himmler said. ”Regardless, it puts Dr. ubel's Project Gefallener back into play.”

A chorus of a half dozen gasps expectedly greeted the Reichsmarshal's news. A few of the civilian SS directors looked paler than usual. Even the Gestapo director was sweating. Most notably, Uhrwerk inclined his head inquisitively, but of course with no trace of emotional concern.

Himmler's patience for dissent had been well exhausted for the day, and the bombsh.e.l.l he dropped would keep the Black Sun busy for days to come.

Heydrich called the meeting to a close.

As the dozen of the inner circle and their aides rose to leave-there were no papers to gather, no notes or attache cases, per Himmler's explicit demands-Himmler nodded to Heydrich.

”Achtung, gentlemen,” Heydrich said. ”Colonel Uhrwerk and Herr Drexler, you are requested to accompany Reichsfuhrer Himmler to Section 712 now for a briefing with Dr. ubel.”

It was not a request.

Heydrich then spoke into a phone. ”Hilda, have Der Top of Form Schadel and Lieutenant Skorzeny meet Herr Himmler's party at security three for Section 712.”

Uhrwerk, Drexler, Himmler, and Heydrich were all members of the Thule Society and involved in planning Project Gefallener from the beginning. They made their way by elevator to the subterranean levels of the North Tower. At Security Checkpoint Three-the last before access to Section 712, which served as Dr. ubel's laboratory-there stood the two storm troopers and one nachtmann-a ”night man,” as the anthropogenic beast was called. Transgenic creatures, they combined elements of human along with genetic material from great apes, wolves, and Yetis. It was the latest success from Dr. ubel's transgenic/alchemical experiments. Fully seven feet tall with thick, long arms and enormous plates of cartilage over its vulnerable points like a wild boar, the man-beast wore a specially designed black uniform not unlike the SS guards but accommodating its unnatural shape and size. The beast wore a Senf mask with an elongated snout and ridges along the brows.

Awaiting the four members of the Black Sun at the checkpoint stood two warriors of stark contrast.

Lieutenant Otto Skorzeny was a das.h.i.+ng, muscular young soldier who, despite the presence of senior officers and uniform directives to the contrary, had the sleeves of his black Waffen-SS tunic rolled up, his collar unb.u.t.toned, and a cigarette in his mouth. His hair was a bit longer than regulation, his thin moustache in the style of western movie stars, and the scar on his cheek just one more unaffected but effective accent. The decorations on his tunic, however, showed he was no photographic model or moving picture actor-he was a blooded warrior whose unorthodox commando tactics had made him the darling of the new German military leaders.h.i.+p. His planning and execution of a glider raid on the High Command during the Beer Hall Putsch had cut the head off the old German Army in the first hours of the revolution. Skorzeny stood at ease even as the guards and the nachtmann clicked their heels in salute.

That nonchalance was the only thing the other man had in common with Skorzeny. Tall and rail thin, the second man wore a breathing mask of an older design that connected to a clockwork device on his back. His Gestapo uniform was white, with a red-lined white cape to hide the clockwork device. The bra.s.s-rimmed mask covered his face but left the bald, scarred, sickly alabaster skin of his head uncovered. He was the officer known only as Der Top of Form.

Schadel. The Skull. He was Himmler's personal Hand, having spent the last five years in a b.l.o.o.d.y quest to find a Christian church relic, and leaving behind a trail of eviscerated victims from the Vatican to Vienna.

Everyone gave Der Schadel wide berth. Even Uhrwerk.

The guards opened the vault doors to the Deep Underground, the realm of Section 712. The smell was what hit first-bitter almond, antiseptic solution, copper, and what the human mind could only register as one thing: fear. The six plus the guard escorting them walked through twisting hallways with doors marked only by Roman numerals and internal bay windows opening onto the larger laboratory observation decks and operating theaters. The sound of machine works and steam releases crowded out the sound of gears grinding and the occasional m.u.f.fled scream.

”Gentlemen,” Heydrich said, ”our digs in Tanis appear to be quite promising, even if the artifacts are of Hebrew origins. But it was, as the Reichsfuhrer stated, our effort in the Balkans that has allowed us to reactivate Project Gefallener.”

The initial directive of Franz Altheim's team had nothing to do with Nordic runes,” he explained. ”It was to seek the factual sources behind the stories of Vlad Tepes, the immortal Romanian impaler, who was rumored to have possessed the relic. This led us to the discovery of a shard of the artifact, rumored to have been washed in the very blood of the man the Romans crucified.

”Though its origins are steeped in the Jewish-Christian desert/slave mythology, the properties of this artifact cannot be denied. We have seen its effect firsthand, and it is . . . more powerful and unpredictable than we could have imagined. Unfortunate, for the agent who was exposed to the shard.”

”Jesus was not Hebrew, of course,” Drexler stated. ”He was from Galilee, where there had been a great deal of a.s.syrian influx. Jesus was descended of Aryan stock, and thus only Jewish in the religion he was raised in. Herr Grundman's research into-”

Himmler cut him off with a shake of the head. Even Himmler didn't subscribe to such clumsy revisionism, though he knew it necessary for the ma.s.ses.

”Where is the lance?” Der Schadel asked in a tone that was more demand than question.

”I . . . our agents were not successful in recovering the artifact itself, just the shard of it,” Heydrich began. ”Only one agent escaped from the team's encounter. A follow-up team lead by Lieutenant Skorzeny found . . .” He trailed off.

Skorzeny picked up for him. ”What we found were six experienced and trained men who looked like rag dolls tossed around by a giant. Some of their bodies were sundered and scorched, others smashed like eggs on a rock. I've never seen anything like it.”

”Did the agent who escaped explain what happened?” Drexler asked.

Heydrich shook his head. ”He was in no condition to tell anyone anything.”

”So what became of the artifact?” Uhrwerk asked.

”We believe it remains in the hands of a local Gypsy tribe. Pa.s.sed between tribes,” Heydrich said, thrown off stride. ”Given time, our usual agents could recover it. But we do not have the luxury of conducting a conventional and methodical search. We believe word of our Romanian expedition may have made its way to France, England, or the Freehold. We believe others will be seeking it now.”

”That is why you and Lieutenant Skorzeny are here, Schadel,” Himmler said.

Der Schadel inclined his head slightly.

”As you wish,” he said.

”You will each be a.s.signed leads to follow that are most suited to your unique gifts,” Himmler said.

Heydrich continued: ”While we do not have the artifact, we do have a sample of the, um, artifact's properties that was brought back by our agent as a result of his exposure to the shard.”

Himmler raised an eyebrow at Heydrich.

”Our late agent,” he corrected.

”A sample of the properties?” Skorzeny asked.

”Yes, Herr Lieutenant.”

The guard escort was under orders to take the Reichsmarshal's party to the observation deck for the primary operating theater, where Dr. ubel was working on the latest stage of Project Gefallener.

”Gentlemen,” Himmler said softly. ”We stand on the brink of victory. We have created divisions of beasts borne of the h.e.l.l of the Dead Lands. Useful, yes, but not enough to avenge what the world took from us in the Great War. But now everything is changing. We have it within our grasp to create legions of indestructible, unwavering soldiers to march across Europe and the rest of the world. I am speaking of no less than an army that will grow with every enemy it kills, and which can't be reasoned with, and which feels no weakness or pity. It is a black legion-a Death's Head Legion-that will reshape the world and ensure the rule of the Fatherland and the Aryan masters for a thousand times as long as the Fuhrer's promise of a Thousand Year Reich. It will be a Reich of the Black Sun. And these will be the soldiers who bring about that dawn.”

The guard-a battle-hardened veteran and SS trooper-showed the group to the window, activated the drape mechanism, and left as quickly as possible.

When the drape opened, there were three gasps and the cigarette in Skorzeny's mouth dropped to the floor.

Drexler seem enraptured.

Himmler smiled.

Uhrwerk made no sound within his metal mask.

Behind the operating theater's gla.s.s part.i.tion the balding Dr. ubel looked up at the arrivals through thick, bra.s.s-rimmed goggles that made his eyes look like white ovals. His white lab coat and long rubber gloves were splattered with blood.

The thing on the table beside ubel-its brain exposed-looked like it had once been a man. But it was pale, st.i.tched, and covered in angry, bleeding sores. Its jaw was more p.r.o.nounced and its teeth looked like a canine's. Its open eyes were milky and red-rimmed. It sat up and strained against the leather bindings, letting out a howl. Its jaws snapped wildly.

ubel smiled at his guests despite the thing raging mere inches from him.

”Ah, good, gentlemen. You're here. This is the best part.”

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