after all? Was Rudolf Hess really dead? Had Helmut somehow managed to
hunt down Hess's X-rays to conceal the truth? Or had both men survived?
Could it be that Hess had lived for a time as Alfred Horn, and then,
after he died, Helmut had quite naturally taken over the false identity?
Whatever his true identity, the old man across from Stern was not
wearing the plain khaki uniform Rudolf Hess had worn as Deputy Fuhrer of
the Reich. He was wearing a gray suit jacket much like the one Adolf
Hitler had worn as Supreme Commander of German Armed Forces. And
suspended around his neck was the Grand Cross-Nazi Germany's highest
military award. To Stern's knowledge, Rudolf Hess had never won that
decoration.
Pieter Smuts stood rigid behind his master, eyes smoldering, mouth set
in a grim line. Above him reared the bronze Phoenix; directly behind,
the maps from which Stern had copied the coordinates he'd given
Hauer.'Stern sensed the soldiers standing behind him.
'We seem to have a problem of mistaken identity,' Horn said. 'Would you
care to enlighten us, Herr Professor?'
Stern stood still as a pillar of salt.
Smuts 'nodded. One of the soldiers behind Stern smashed a savage fist
into his right kidney. Stern crumpled, but managed to stay on his feet.
As he straightened up, the two X-rays he had stolen from the medical
unit made a crackling sound. Smuts came around the desk, ripped Stern's
shirt open and jerked out the films. He handed them to Horn; who held
them up to his desk lamp and clucked his tongue softly.
'You're a clever little rat, aren't you?' he growled. 'Herr Stern?'
Stern struggled to hold his face immobile as his brain raced to adapt to
the changing situation. If Horn knew his name, that meant that either
Ilse had been made to talk, or Hauer and Gadi had been captured.
Stern prayed it was the former. 'I'd say we have two cases of mistaken
identity,' he said coolly.
Smuts signaled for another kidney blow, but Horn raised a peremptory
hand. 'I think you know who I am,' he said, his watery eye twinkling.
'Deputy Fuhrer Rudolf Hess, I suppose?'
'That title is long out of date. After the Fuhrer died, his
responsibilities passed to me.'
'You've pinched his uniform and decorations, at any rate,' Stern
needled. 'I thought the dubious honor of the Nazi succession passed to
Hermann Goring.'
Hess colored. Another vicious blow hammered Stern's left kidney,
driving him to his, knees 'The Reichsmarschall is also dead,' Hess said
testily.
'And the Grand Cross was awarded to me by the Fuhrer himself.
Secretly, of course.'
Stern looked up at the old man and stared into the single furtive eye.
'If you are Hess,' he said, 'what happened to Helmut Steuer?'
'Helmut died a hero's death in 1941. He was a German patriot of the
highest order, and I immortalized his efforts by awarding him the
Knight's Cross.'
'And the tattoo? The single eye?'
Hess shrugged. 'I needed a symbol. I couldn't risk telling my
associates my true identity. I wanted a mystical sign that would
signify their bond to me and to each other. I remembered the All-Seeing
Eye from my childhood in Egypt.'
Hess touched his eyepatch. 'It certainly seemed appropriate.
As did the Phoenix.'
All just as Professor Natterman guessed. 'How did you lose the eye?'
Stern asked.
Hess grimaced. 'A British bullet. I had no access to a doctor until it
was too late.' The old man jerked his finger away from his face. 'This
is ancient history! I want to know what you hoped to accomplish by your
ridiculous deception, Jew. Other than suicide, of course.'
Stern stared back with cold assurance. 'I have come to take you back to
Israel to stand trial'for the crimes you escaped at Nuremberg-the crimes
for which your double served a life sentence in Spandau Prison.'
Hess's laugh was hoarse and hollow, but frightening all the same.
'You should see a psychiatrist, Herr Stern. You suffer from serious
delusions of the paranoid type. I will arrange for my personal
physician to visit you.'
Stern waved his arm, taking in the Nazi regalia that covered the walls.
'You're the one who's mad. If you believe you're going to raise some
kind of Fourth Reich in Germany, you're hopelessly senile.'
Hess's eye brightened. 'Is that what you think I want? A Fourth Reich
in Germany? I'm afraid the only people with whom you share that fantasy
are paranoid Russians and writers of pulp fiction.' He glanced at
Smuts. 'Perhaps a few German policemen,' he added.
'What is it then? I'm sure you have some master plan for German world
domination.'
Hess smiled. 'Do you really think I need one? The postwar world has
evolved along the very lines the Fuhrer predicted. Germany-even when
divided-is the most powerful nation in Europe. America has assumed
Britain's imperial mantle and rules the seas in her stead.
Japan rules the Pacific and a lot more besides. Which brings us to the
Soviet Union.
How far are we, really, from seeing Russia as an economic colony of
Greater Germany? The Soviet economy is almost as weak now as it was
just prior to the 1917 Revolution.
How long before it explodes? When that explosion comes, it will be
Germany who rebuilds the country. We'll trade cash for raw materials
and gain access to the enormous markets that will be opened there. The
final step toward economic hegemony over Europe. We already hold the
purse strings to half the American national debt, and our power and
influence grow stronger every day. Reunification is inevitable.'
'Then why destroy Israel?'
Hess scratched beneath the black eyepatch. 'For the most pragmatic of
reasons, I assure you. In a way, I almost regret having to do it.
Sometimes I think you Jews learned more from the Fuhrer than anyone.
Have you ever seen Israeli soldiers at the Wailing Wall, Herr Stern?
Praying in formation?
It is a sight worth seeing. The Israelis have become the new Germans!
