Authors: Garner Scott Odell
“Get me back in the field, boss”, David said strongly.
“I’ll wait until I get your next medical update, David. I will not rush things. I need you physically fit for a new assignment I have coming up. Feel free to give me any other ideas on what we’ve talked about,” he said, hanging up, as David started to protest.
In the air on her way to Italy, Miriam reclined in the first class seat, a glass of wine in her hand, closed her eyes, and thought about her new assignment - - - Rome! She couldn’t believe Levi had arranged first class tickets,
but who was to argue? What had the guidebook that Levi had sent with the tickets, called it, oh yes, The Eternal City, The City of Seven Hills. Hope I have some time to explore those seven hills! I certainly want to explore the Coliseum and the Pantheon. I’ve got to throw a few coins into the Trevi Fountain. The guidebook says that when I do, my hopes and dreams will come true - - - I wonder. Now, the catacombs do not interest me at all. Who wants to see graves underground - - - that sounds rather creepy. It would be nice to explore all this with Hank
, she thought.
She knew he had developed strong feelings for her, but she knew that even if she was not leaving Munich, it was time to end their affair. No way did she want some handsome German simpering over her and getting in her hair, either personally or professionally. She was just beginning to enjoy the feeling of non-involvement with anyone. She felt psychologically and physically strong and knew she now had the ability to go on alone and felt sure that David was finally out of her system
.
She admitted Hank was good-looking and hot in bed, but looks and sex were not everything. Ironically, his charm was what attracted her in the first place. However, had Hank not been so attractive, and she needing a strong residual diversion from David, she would never have bothered, and she really didn’t give a damn if everything he had told her was a lie. It had been a fun fling
.
She asked the stewardess for another glass of wine and her thoughts turned back to Levi and her new assignment, going over in her mind all the material her had sent her. Before she knew it, the Lufthansa, Boeing 727-200 was approaching the Rome airport, starting its long descent, and her new adventure.
When the GRS met in their office building at the insistence of Chief Beinschmidt he first informed Gottschlag and Neuschondorf he made the proper changes in their visas to hide the fact they both came from Argentina. Their passports now stated they had came from France. They were going to be a great asset to his Munich team since spoke French fluently and could easily pass as French.
Furious that their assassin, they only knew as Mr. Dolch, had suddenly walked out on them and started killing without their sanction the Chief ranted that they had to find out who he really was and where he was.
“He’s a loose cannon, and if he keeps up his indiscriminate killings, can destroy all the hard work we have done in an effort to effect change in the internal politics here in Germany. We do not even know what he looks like or what his real name is. We were really stupid to take him on just because those bastards in Argentina recommended him. Just dealing with him over the telephone, I should have had my head examined. I have filled Neuschondorf and Gottschlag in on the problem we are having with Mr. Dolch, and they have some interesting thoughts about our lone wolf seemingly on the loose.”
“Why don’t you share your suspicions with us?”
Gottschlag began, “Well, you probably remember when that damnable bunch of Jews from the Mossad went to Argentina and captured Obersturmbannführer Eichmann. During his capture, as I remember, his personal bodyguard, by the name of Hans Huber, was killed. As the story goes, Huber had a young son who was badly wounded in that same gun battle, and when he recovered, he swore revenge on the Mossad, and for that matter, all Jews. I remember people said he was left with a bullet scar on one of his thighs after the bullet was removed. No one who lived in the compound in Argentina at that time is still around, but Neus and I wonder if our killer today could be that same boy. He does slash his victims with a sign like the old SS runes, you know.”
Bruno responded, as he walked around the room, “Very interesting, I think I’ll just have to look into our friend more carefully. We really didn’t know very much about him before he joined us and now he’s turned his back on us and puts our long-standing work in jeopardy. I’ll see if a dragnet of the old haunts our friend seemed to like, could net him. Before adjourning, they agreed they would not meet again until they had something concrete on Mr. Dolch.
As the men got up to leave the Chief announced, “If anything comes up, I’ll call you, and we can get together for lunch at the Hofbräukeller.
When Piet Servette called Chief Beinschmidt the next day and told him Hans had been spotted in Nice, Bruno thanked the Inspector for the tip, but ignored the information because he believed that “Hans” might really be Mr. Dolch, and probably was still in Munich. He inquired about Miriam’s condition and whereabouts and how David was doing with his recovery. Piet said that Levi told him Miriam had gone into retirement, and David was still recuperating from his injuries; he would probably be out of commission for a number of months, and perhaps even retire. The conversation was pleasant, but dissatisfying to both parties. Piet rang off, turned from his desk, and looking over a glorious spring day in his Geneva, wondered, what was really going on in Munich.
The night Mr. Dolch was picked up in a raid by the Munich vice squad with others in the red-light district clubs was a night he would not soon forget. He was in disguise, as usual, he had perfect identification papers with him, but he still felt extremely uneasy at being hauled in to the police station.
If he had just left early, he would not be in this fix. It was all a matter of bad timing
.
In a renewed effort to find the serial killer that seemed to be running rampant, the Munich police, in their sweep, hauled in 60 people for questioning. Beinschmidt used the search for “The Dagger” as his main rationale for the city dragnet. He directed his men to throw out a net and bring in at least fifty males a night from local nightclubs. So far, almost thirty had been booked on drug and prostitution charges, making Bruno look like a very effective terrorist chief.
Those caught up in this dragnet were brought one by one into the main police station holding room, searched, and left for questioning. They were taken one by one into a small interrogation room and asked by Gottschlag state their name and read a short paragraph into a microphone. The chief sat in an adjoining room listening to each voice in his earphones. Through his microphone on the small desk, he told Gottschlag either yes or no sealing the fate of each man. The hours wore on without anything but no from the Chief. Both police officers began to wonder whether this whole exercise had been a complete bust. The Chief rubbed his smoke filled eyes and his head pounded from all the cigarettes and coffee, but they kept at it. All of a sudden, he heard the name Oscar Hedel, and listened to him read the paragraph. The Chief’s muscles grew tense; perhaps this is what we have been waiting for? He asked Gottschlag to have the man read it again. This man’s voice rang bells in the back of the Chief’s tired mind. He was sure that this was their man he had spoken with a number of times on the telephone when the GRS had asked for a new “hit, but was it Mr. Golch or Hans?”
Chief Beinschmidt left his small listening room, entered the interrogation room, and motioned for Gottschlag to leave.
As soon as the door shut, he told the man to stand up and drop his pants.
“What the hell for?”
“Shut up and do as you’re told!”
Hans angrily, very slowly, unbuckled his belt and let his pants slide to the floor. He did not step free of them.
What is this man after
, wondered Hans.
The Chief ordered him to put his foot up on the chair. Hans raised one leg, resting his foot on the chair. Bruno peered closely at the leg, then, told him to show the other one. After the examination, he told Hans he could put his pants back on, to sit down and relax.
“I see the plastic surgeon in Buenos Aries did a fine job on you, Hans.”
“The name’s Oscar, sir. Oscar Hedel”
“No, yours is Mr. Golch or perhaps even Hans Huber! I know who you are. Just watch your step. Don’t get arrested again. Do you understand?”
When Hans heard those words
do you understand
his eyes focused sharply, staring into the Chief’s eyes, those words were identical in inflection and tone to the words spoken to him on his telephone the day someone from the organization had threatened him. Max stared back and they stared intently at each other for almost a minute. The Chief said, “You may go.” Hans quickly pulled up his pants, left without a word and drove back to his house as the Eastern sun began to creep through the awakening city.
I’ll be damned
, thought Hans.
The head of the terrorist squad in Munich. He’s my boss in the GRS! He’s the one who threatened me just a day or so ago. Well, this certainly changes things. Now that I know this, I can just follow our good Chief until he leads me to the others in his little organization. Hmmm. I knew the goddamned scar that Jew commando gave me would be my downfall, even with the plastic surgery I guess the Mr. Golch disguise is finished forever now
.
Tired and angry, Hans almost drove right past his house.