into the kitchen. Given the simplicity so far, he hoped that the rest of this would be just as easy.
The kitchen was small, just large enough for a few people to comfortably work in it together. A prep cook was busy readying
The prep cook saw Wayne and pointed, without saying anything, to a large barrel filled with iced bottled of champagne and trays stacked with empty champagne glasses. Wayne got the hint and began to fill glasses with the alcoholic beverage. He was tempted to take a swig of the stuff, but didn’t dare.
Another waiter entered the kitchen with an empty tray. The crowd was hungry for champagne, and he was only able to walk about nine meters before his tray was once again vacant. Wayne was eyeing all of the cabinets and drawers as a possible spot where the Silver Cup may be. He would have to do some searching. But how without drawing attention?
Wayne filled his tray of champagne glasses very slowly, but felt the gaze of the prep cook on his back. He would have to exit the kitchen with his tray. He would unload his champagne glasses to guests as quickly as possible, then get back to the kitchen. Maybe the prep cook wouldn’t be there then. Time was wasting.
Wayne left the kitchen. Guests thirstily grabbed the glasses off of his tray without saying a word to him. So far, so good. Now he had to find a way to search for the Silver Cup.
As Wayne, with his empty tray, walked through the door that swung into the kitchen, he caught a glimpse of something that made him think his eyes were playing a trick on him. He saw another waiter, a middle-aged chap, exit the kitchen through the other door. This other waiter was holding up a tray, though not just an ordinary silver tray like Wayne himself held or the other waiters had been using to pass out drinks to the guests. No, this tray appeared to be exquisite gold. It was the glitter of this tray that caught Wayne’s eye. But what really astounded Wayne was the one item he saw on this beautiful tray. That one item was none other than a silver cup. Wayne, for a split second, had thought he had seen an inscription on the front of the silver cup, but he wasn’t sure. Could this be it? Who else would be brought a special cup to drink out of on a special gold tray but the Fuhrer?
Wayne had to act fast. He didn’t bother entering the kitchen to refill on champagne glasses. Instead, he started to trail the waiter with the gold tray.
As he tried to follow him, Wayne had a hard time making his way through the heavily crowded room. As Wayne pushed his way through, various guests placed empty glasses and cigarette butts on his tray. Wayne felt somebody bump against him. He turned around and came face to face with Adolf Hitler.
Hitler gave Wayne a cold stare with his slightly protruding, radiant, deep blue eyes — the eyes that had hypnotized a nation.
As the Fuhrer made eye contact with him, Wayne began to shake and almost pissed in his pants. Surely Hitler would see something in Wayne that would make him suspicious of this waiter.
Wayne swallowed hard and did the only thing that he could think of at the moment. “
Adolf Hitler did not respond. Instead, for what seemed like the longest twenty seconds of his whole entire life, the Nazi leader continued staring into Wayne’s eyes. And suddenly, Hitler continued on his way. Wayne let out a sigh of relief.
Wayne thought to himself after meeting Hitler and seeing the other Nazi functionaries how ironic it was that these men did not in any way appear to be the supermen, or ideal Aryan specimens, that was central to the National Socialist regime. In fact, with the exception of only two men that were present on that night, none of the men had blue eyes or blond hair, or even appeared to be the perfect example of a healthy human being. Not Goebbels with his clubbed foot deformity, nor Goring was his obesity, nor Himmler with his frail body and bad eyes, nor Hitler himself with his black hair and his frequent stomach problems.
Wayne continued pushing his way through the crowd. He spotted the waiter with the silver cup walking towards the podium. Wayne moved quickly to get next to him.
There was only one thing that Wayne could do. He stuck his foot out so that the middle-aged waiter would trip. The waiter proceeded to take a fall and banged his head with a strong impact on the floor, sending the silver cup flying.
Wayne picked up the silver cup off of the floor and put the prized possession on his tray. He patted the hurting waiter on the back. The waiter was too dazed to say anything. Wayne read the cup’s inscription, “
Hitler stepped up to the podium. Behind him hung a huge red banner with the all-important party symbol, the swastika, dead in the center of it. Seated behind the Fuhrer were top Nazi officials, including Rudolf Hess and Hermann Goring. The place had become silent.
Hitler stood at the podium for a full two minutes before talking. This built up anticipation for the audience, whether a small beer hall audience or a packed stadium audience, to hear their leader speak his magical words of leadership and wisdom. Hitler, being the gifted orator that he was, really knew how to work a crowd to his advantage.
Finally, the Nazi leader spoke in a mild tone, “A great victory has been had today, but much more has yet to be done. Today, we have paved the way for Germany to rightfully regain what was once hers.
The crowd cheered and he continued, “None but the members of the nation may be citizens of the State. None but of those of German blood, of the purest of Germanic bloodlines, will…”
Wayne entered the kitchen. The prep cook was gone. The place was empty. He had the Silver Cup. Things could not be going any better.
Wayne picked up a bottle of champagne and poured some champagne into the Silver Cup. He glanced around the now empty kitchen. The coast was clear. Wayne removed the vial of poison from his pocket. He unscrewed the protective cap and poured the deadly contents of the vial into the beautiful Silver Cup.
A waiter, the one Wayne had originally seen in the kitchen, walked in. The waiter, a young guy of average build, spotted Wayne. Something he saw angered him.
He grabbed Wayne by the shoulders and pushed him with so much force against a counter where utensils hung that most of them fell to the ground.
“Idiot!” the waiter yelled. He pushed Wayne hard again, this time into another counter. On the counter was a carving board and a full selection of carving knives. The waiter pinned Wayne down. He picked up a knife that had to have had a blade at least a foot long, and put the sharp edge of the blade against Wayne’s neck.
Wayne took a big gulp and kept his eyes fixed on the knife’s blade. Had this waiter seen Wayne pour the liquid into Hitler’s special drinking cup? Wayne didn’t believe that he had. But what else could this guy be getting psycho about? Wayne was trying to think of an excuse that he would use now that he was busted.
“Asshole!” the waiter wrathfully said in Wayne’s face. “Do you want to cost us all our jobs? You know how important tonight is. If I see you without an armband one more time, I will use this knife.”
The waiter lowered the big knife from Wayne’s neck and got off of him. He removed an extra swastika armband from his slacks and threw it at a dumfounded Wayne. The waiter exited the kitchen.
Wayne breathed a little easier. He slowly and shamefully put the swastika armband on. So, Dr. Hoffmann hadn’t thought of everything, after all. Wayne had been sure that his cover was blown. Wayne’s first instinct was to deck the waiter, but then he became determined just to get out of 1933 in one piece, whether he had completed his objective or not.
He picked up the gold tray and carefully placed the now-filled Silver Cup on it. After taking another quick disbelieving look at the knife that had been put to his throat, Wayne exited the kitchen.
Inside the Chancellery’s main room, Hitler was speaking in a fiery tone, “…why Germany must have more breathing space and no other European nation must stand in her righteous path. If the Communists, Freemasons, or Jews of the world continue to prevent Germans from acquiring what is rightfully our lands, and have been in German hands for a thousand years, then the price these people will pay will be with their own heads.” A massive round of cheering came from the guests. Hitler continued, “And now, I toast you, my Deutschland.”
Hitler looked for his special cup. One of the Nazi officials observed Wayne, who was standing by the side of the podium. Wayne had been stunned by how phenomenal a speaker Hitler really had been. Every word was spoken in a certain manner to achieve a desired effect from the audience. Wayne had seen old newsreels of the Fuhrer speaking and how the audiences always hung on his every word, but in-person his gifts as an orator were even more impressive.
The Nazi official gave Wayne a jab to get his attention, nearly causing Hitler’s Cup to topple over. Wayne prevented such a grave accident from occurring (he had only come with the one vial of poison) by putting his hand
