Shadow of Evil
Dragan Kelly Book Two
Peter Alderson Sharp
Shadow of Evil
By
Peter Alderson Sharp
Copyright © 2021 Peter Alderson Sharp
Bark at the Moon Books
All rights reserved
Publishers note: This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and for effect. Any resemblance to actual persons, either living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of very brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Cover design by Francessca’s PR and Designs
Formatting by Tammy
Proofing by Johnny Bonbon
Contents
Part I
The Bunker – Berlin 1951
The Thule Maiden and the Gruppenführer
Skadi and the Wolf
Release from Plötzensee
The Wolf at the Door
The Thule and the Swastika
Horst Manteufel Reflects
Skadi Reports
Part II
A BRIXMIS Extraction
Manteufel’s Story – I Leave the Bunker
A Gift from God
Gretel
Home
The Granite Guardsman
Helmut’s Revelation
Part III
Hitler Alive?
Skadi Investigates
McFarlane Plans
Down the Line
Obersturmbannführer Skorzeny
Father Vilim Cecelja
Part IV
Into Mexico
A Luxury Cruise
Buenos Aires
El Avión del Presidente
Bariloche
Escape
The Long Trek
Nature Provides
Part V
Baptism in Blood
A Visit to the Castle
A Conversation with the Vril Maiden
Gardermann’s Farm
The End?
Also by Peter Alderson Sharp
Part I
Berlin 1951
The Bunker – Berlin 1951
Dan Kelly cursed as he stumbled on loose rubble and crashed into the concrete wall, dropping his torch in the process. Ruefully he rubbed his shoulder and thanked his Russian compatriot for his concern, assuring him he was fine. They spoke in German, their common language.
Major Mikhail Sverlov was a squat, heavily built man with Slavonic features and a hint of the steppe about the eyes. He was friendly, if somewhat taciturn, but seemed willing to assist.
Regaining his torch, Kelly gestured for the Russian to continue down the narrow dank Kannenberg passageway that led from the ruins of the Reichskanzlei to the bunker. As they reached the end, Sverlov heaved open the steel connecting door, which groaned and protested but swung easily once in motion. Kelly stepped through and stopped dead. His body tingled and his hands shook slightly. Momentarily he felt dizzy. He was standing in the Führer’s bunker!
Sverlov clanged the metal door closed, jarring against the eerie stillness and tomb-like silence of the bunker, then turned to Kelly.
“Are you alright, Comrade Colonel?” There was a note of concern in his voice and even in the gloomy darkness, illuminated only by the penetrating beam of the torches and the reflected light from the white walls, Kelly could see the quizzical look on the soldier’s face.
The major liked his British counterpart: bright, humorous, and clearly professional and on top of his job. Kelly was a big man, tall and broad and with a craggy face that sometimes looked sad, the green eyes reflecting memories that would be better forgotten.
Kelly was nodding. “I’m good Mikhail. It just seems so strange to be in this place.” They spoke in hushed voices, almost whispering. There was no need to, but the place seemed to demand that level of respect and awe.
“I had the same feeling the first time I explored it,” confirmed the Russian, then, struggling for the word he needed, added, “gruselig!”
Kelly smiled and nodded. Yes. Creepy, sinister.
Kelly was inwardly astonished to have reached this point. The Russians had been very protective about the bunker. Kelly’s cover of being on the trail of some of the last inhabitants and guards with a view to prosecuting them as war criminals, however, was at least part true and had made it difficult for the Soviets to refuse. They had themselves pursued the same agenda at the end of the war, but apart from a few who were captured and held, the majority had escaped to the west and given themselves up to the advancing British.
It made sense, therefore, for British Intelligence to continue the work started by their Soviet counterparts. Kelly remembered his joy on the day the official letter arrived bearing the Soviet CD insignia. Permission had been granted to visit the bunker.
“Be careful here, there are stairs—they may be slippery!” warned Sverlov. Gingerly they descended the concrete steps then passed through two small rooms before turning right and entering a long thin area.
“Dining room,” said Sverlov, looking at Kelly and indicating the empty room, his face barely visible. “You can get a bratwurst from the kitchen over there,” he said smiling and waving his torch in the direction of an open door on the left.
Kelly slapped him on the shoulder. “I think I’ll pass. I’ll treat you to a ‘bocky’ when we get out of this place,” said Kelly, referring to Sverlov’s favourite German sausage.
“Again, take care!” cautioned the Russian as they approached more stairs. “The stairs turn sharp left further down.” They descended, Kelly at pains to keep to the wall. He didn’t think he could trust what remained of the metal handrail. As he reached near ground level, he shone his torch at the inky blackness of the floor. There was no reflection. Water!
“How deep is this, Mikhail?”
“About ten centimetres, it’s okay,” answered Sverlov. Liar! thought Kelly as he descended a good six inches into the water and silently congratulated himself on his foresight to wear gumboots. Sverlov was heading off half left, the sloshing and splashing of his boots echoing around the dead emptiness. Kelly was aware of the dank, musty smell of saturated plaster and stale air.
“Medical centre,” explained Sverlov in response to Kelly shining his torch down a passage to the right. “Towards the end it was used by the Goebbels family as quarters. My comrades found the bodies of the six children in one of the rooms.”
“My God!” murmured Kelly, shaking his head in the darkness.
They reached a long corridor and
