After instructing the pilot to wait for him, he trotted away toward an awaiting Khazar sedan, the national car brand of the nation that had experienced political upheaval since it declared its independence from Russia in 1991.
For Odessa, the nation was of strategic importance because of its central proximity to Russia, Turkey, and Iran. Odessa’s roots ran deep into the Middle East, and Turkey, located to the west of Azerbaijan, was the perfect conduit into Iraq, Syria, and Lebanon.
As for Iran, Odessa’s long-standing relationship with the mullahs dated back to their financial assistance in deposing the U.S.-supported shah of Iran in 1979 during the Iranian Revolution.
Lastly, the relationship between members of die Zwölf and the former German adversaries in Russia had become one of shared common interests. In recent years, geopolitical relations between Washington and Moscow had been strained. The Jorgensen brothers swiftly moved in to create bonds with high-ranking officials of the Russian government. The result was a working relationship with a common goal—undermine America on the world stage.
Wagner cared nothing for politics, as was the case when he was the commander of his KSK unit. He didn’t kiss ass, nor did he toe the line. It was his unit, and he’d run them as he saw fit. In the end, that stubbornness was his downfall in Germany, but it opened up an unimaginable opportunity with Odessa.
The disbanding of his KSK Special Forces commando unit came with the swiftness of a Blitzkrieg. A sergeant within his unit, a malcontent who repeatedly attempted to undermine his command, had sent a twelve-page letter to the German defense minister Annegret Kremp. Kremp had an utter disdain for the German military and had been instrumental in running U.S.-led NATO forces out of the country and into Poland a decade prior.
The letter made clear, in the sergeant’s opinion, that the eleven-hundred-soldier unit, which operated in top secrecy and specialized in lethal operations, was moving in the direction of fascist terrorism. The sergeant claimed there was a groundswell of discontent within the KSK that the unit was quickly turning into a model reminiscent of Hitler’s Waffen-SS.
Within days, before the allegations contained in the letter to Kremp could undergo a thorough investigation, a copy was delivered to Der Spiegel, the nation’s largest news magazine. The reporter turned the letter into a massive hit piece on the KSK.
In a three-part series, the reporter claimed that nationalist, right-wing extremist tendencies within the KSK were tolerated by the Berlin government and sometimes consciously covered up. Past administrations allegedly acknowledged the activities of the KSK soldiers but recognized the commanders were trained to look the other way when their personnel treated immigrants harshly, for example.
The slant of the article was so brazen that soon half of Germany demanded the KSK be disbanded and the soldiers be investigated for criminal acts. The Berlin government was not prepared to go that far because, despite all the criticism heaped upon the KSK, they were an absolutely necessary part of the German military.
Instead, they chose to make an example of the one commander specifically mentioned in the sergeant’s letter, who was identified as Daniel. Unfortunately for Daniel Wagner, he was the only commander within the KSK who matched the letter’s designation.
Wagner had admonished several members of his unit for their postings on social media, which drew attention to his KSK unit. One such admonishment took the form of a posting in a private Facebook group. In the post, he tried to stop the public postings while encouraging his soldiers not to lose sight of the big picture.
We stand together to be an internal enemy against the modern conglomerate of left-wing, uniform-wearing recipients of politically correct initiatives. Our nation will once again return to greatness, and it is our duty to maintain its culture and integrity until authentic German leadership returns to Berlin. You are the new generation of German soldiers, who will act when the times demand it. Long live holy Germany!
This post was obtained by the Defense Minister’s office and provided to the reporter at Der Spiegel along with the twelve-page letter. As a result, no formal complaint was ever required and no investigation was undertaken. The German chancellor demanded Wagner’s dismissal, and his entire unit was disbanded to make an example of them. Three weeks later, all of Wagner’s unit, together with another eighty operatives within the KSK, were hired by Odessa under the supervision of Derek Jorgensen.
Wagner’s driver sped up the winding two-lane gravel road toward the year-round snow-capped peak of Mount Bazarduzu, a prominent landmark delineating the border between Azerbaijan and Russia. The colder climate coupled with the remote environs made for a perfect location to establish a chemical weapons laboratory.
For years, Odessa had spent an inordinate amount of money developing bioweapons intended to inflict mass casualties on the former Allied countries. Now their program had just received a boost in the form of nearly three hundred canisters of Nazi-produced sarin made at Riems Island by Herr Doktor Kurt Blome.
Chapter Nine
Odessa Science Facility
Greater Caucasus Mountains
Gabala, Azerbaijan
Minutes later, Daniel Wagner stood in front of a slate gray building that perfectly epitomized the former Soviet Gulag labor camp, which housed political prisoners. Oftentimes, the former inmates had been snatched in the dead of the night from their homes and brought to this desolate part of the mountains. While imprisoned, they mined gold, lumbered, built roads, and constructed buildings until they died.
The bright morning sun baked the outside of the concrete structure to offset the temperatures, which hovered in the upper thirties. The secret laboratory had been given a code name, Einstein, to honor the German-born physicist who turned his scientific genius toward
