Alpha Threat (38 page)

After an hour of travel, they felt they were near the complex.
 
But there were no signs whatsoever of any tombstones, only jungle.
 

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Fortress Alpha, Brazil;
 
7:30 a.m.

Their visit at Fortress Alpha was to be brief.
 
Since their arrival yesterday there had been constant meetings.
 
The next morning was to bring even more.
 
It was early; seven-thirty in the morning to be exact.
 
Dieter Blocher had been awake for over an hour.
 
He had one last appointment with Albert Jackson and Herrman Kunze before he and Jackson were to leave.
 
Blocher was inwardly excited to ride on the helicopter over the vastness of the Amazon jungle.
 

They met for breakfast in another small but opulent dining room.
 
This room was decorated with all of the trappings of the Third Reich.
 
There was a huge picture of Adolph Hitler on one wall and a large German flag on the opposite wall.
  
Rich mahogany paneling and moldings surrounded the room.
 
It was clearly a showcase of the richness and importance of the soon to be Fourth Reich.
 

“Good morning, gentlemen,” smiled Herrman Kunze as he walked into the room.
 
“I trust you slept well last night?”

“Extremely well, I must say,” answered Jackson, taking the first sip of his coffee.
 
“Your hospitality is wonderful.
  
The coffee is particularly good.”
 

“Very well, thank you,” added Blocher.
 
“This is a remarkable complex, Herr Kunze.”
 

“Please call me Herrman,” said Kunze.
 
“We will be working very closely over the next several months.
 
We must feel comfortable with each other.”
 

Kunze looked at Jackson, an old friend.
 
“The coffee is one of the benefits of living in the Amazon.
 
Some of the finest coffees in the world are grown here.
 
We take advantage of our natural resources.”
 

Blocher nodded in agreement.
 

Kunze began the meeting.
 
“Dieter, Albert tells me that you are quite an effective administrator of our work in Miami.
 
You have a big job ahead of you.
 
You will be the apex of our gold operations in the United States.”

Dieter sat up a bit straighter.
 
He was very pleased with the comments.
 
“Herr Jackson is very kind with his comments,” began Dieter.
 
“I have learned a great deal from him.
 
I feel confident that I will be able to fulfill your needs in Miami.”

Albert smiled and took another sip of coffee.
 
“Dieter will do well.
 
Not only has he worked well with the operations but his quick and decisive handling of the Nader situation was perfect.”

Kunze’s brow wrinkled slightly.
 
“Yes.
 
That was very unfortunate but also very necessary.
 
I do commend you on your work, Dieter.
 
Our sources in Miami confirmed his demise and I can also say that the authorities there are totally baffled.
 
No clues or traces of evidence were found.
 
That was excellent work.
 
Sometimes we have to step out of bounds to protect our investments, you see.
 
Your handling of such a touchy issue was noted in high places.”
 
Kunze was alluding to the
Führer.
 

Dieter tilted his head slightly to one side and gave Kunze a small nod of appreciation.
 

“On to our next opportunity,” said Kunze, redirecting the conversation.
 
“Up to this time we have been shipping our manufactured gold in very small lots back to the U.S. with Albert’s help.
 
Now we need you, Dieter, to take up the task of doubling our shipments beginning next week.
 
When you get back to Miami you will be contacted by a new gentleman taking the place of the late Mr. Nader.
 
He has been totally vetted by our security teams and can be trusted completely.
 
Mr. Eric Clark is his name.
 
You will have his dossier in your hands by tomorrow.”

“Very good,” said Dieter.
 
“I look forward to working with him.”
 

“Good!
 
He will also have a new operational plan for you to follow.
 
I would give it to you now, but the Führer has yet to completely approve it.”
 

Dieter nodded again.
 
“I understand completely,” he said.

When they finished their breakfast, Kunze stood.
 
Jackson and Blocher stood as well.
 
Kunze walked around the table and offered his hand to Dieter.
 

“This is a glorious time for the Reich,” he said, smiling broadly, shaking his hand.
 
“And for you, my good friend, I look forward to working more directly with you,” he said, shaking Jackson’s hand.
 
Kunze checked his watch.
  
“Ahh, it is time for you to catch the helicopter.
 
Let me walk with you.”

The trio left the dining room and walked through the complex toward the flight center.
 
While Kunze and Jackson talked of old times, Dieter was still amazed.
 
He was totally in awe of the complex.
 
They walked past a children’s center where the children of the workers and scientists played and went to school.
 
There was even a small university, cinemas, a gymnasium, basketball court and a pool.
 
Other floors they passed through were living quarters for the inhabitants.
 
Everything Dieter saw was state-of-the-art.
 
He was proud to be a Nazi; proud to be involved in the entire operation.
 

When they arrived at the helicopter, their luggage was already packed aboard. The pilots were ready.
 

Kunze congratulated Blocher and Jackson on their work again and wished them well.
 
Kunze made a particular effort to invite Blocher back again.
  
When the two men were aboard, Kunze stepped back a safe distance and the helicopter began its starting sequence.
 
At the same time, the large overhead doors began to open enabling the takeoff.
  
Kunze braved the prop wash and waved a final goodbye as the helicopter lifted from the ground.
 
Blocher and Jackson were on their way back to Miami.
 

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

The Jungle, Brazil;
 
8:45 a.m.

Hugo froze.
 
Dane froze as well.
 
They heard the helicopter seconds before they saw it rise up over the trees ahead.
 
The black, unmarked helicopter seemed like it came from nowhere.
 
It was quieter than most due to some type of stealth package.
 
Both men dove under the foliage to make absolutely certain no one could see them from above.
 
The helicopter rose higher and higher, stopped abruptly, hovered for a second and sped away.
 
Within thirty seconds the chopper had moved away to the east and out of range.
 

Dane looked at Hugo.
 
“Bingo,” he whispered.
 
“I think we have something.
 
That chopper had to come from somewhere.
 
It has to be their base.
 
Stealth helicopters like that don’t grow on trees out here.”

“Yeah, you don’t see a chopper like that everyday.
 
Looks like it came from about a hundred yards ahead.
 
Let’s move up and see what we can find,” said Hugo quietly.
 

It was nine in the morning and the sun was climbing in the sky.
 
While the sun made their vision much better, the probability of Dane and Hugo being seen was greater.
 
They moved forward gingerly.
 
They knew something was out there, but what?
 

About one-half klick from where they saw the chopper, the two stopped abruptly.
 
Hugo saw it first.
 
Through the bushes was an aluminum stanchion sticking out of the ground about a foot.
 
They moved closer to get a better view.
 
 
They could see that it was part of something man-made buried under the jungle floor.
 
Neither Dane nor Hugo could identify what it was.
      

“Hold it,” said Dane.
 
“If we are near an entrance, we have to assume the area is being monitored.
 
There may be cameras, motion sensors and vibration sensors around each entrance.”

“I’ll check it out,” whispered Hugo as he moved over to the right.
 

Dane took a knee partially hiding under a bush.
 
He worried they may have been seen or detected in some way.
 
He watched and listened intently, ready for anything that may rear its ugly head.
 

Hugo was gone twenty minutes.
 
There was no response from the base.
 
Maybe they were lucky, thought Dane.
  
But he was taught not to count on luck.
 
Count on facts.
 

Hugo appeared out of the bush.
 

“I found nothing,” he reported.
 
“Not one camera, monitor or anything.
 
It all looks clear to me.”

“That’s what worries me,” said Dane, biting his lip.
 
“It’s too damn easy.
 
Let’s sit back for a few and see if anything develops.”
 

“Your call, Boss,” said Hugo, also taking a knee beside the bush.
 
“I need a bit of rest anyway.”
 

Dane cracked a small smile.
 
“Don’t get too comfortable.
 
We’ve got work to do.”

They waited for twenty more minutes; nothing.
 
During his earlier recon, Hugo determined they were on top of the base.
 
But they had no idea of its size.
 
Both decided to probe a bit more for an entrance.
 
The two men skulked through the jungle brush trying to make as little noise as possible.
 
There was no trail to be seen.
 
As they moved about fifty meters to their left, Dane noticed a small stone half buried in the ground.
 

“Got one,” he said quietly to Hugo, tapping him on the arm.
 
Hugo turned.
 
There was what looked like a tombstone as the German told them.
 
They both knelt around the stone looking for an opening.
 

“See anything?” asked Dane.
 

“Nothing here,” answered Hugo.
 
He moved to his left about a meter when his foot hit something.
 
“Wait!”

Dane stepped over.
 
Hugo’s foot had hit a small pile of brush.
 
But the small pile did not move.
 

“I think I found something,” Hugo whispered.
 
He moved his hands around the pile.
 
This was not a brush pile but a very well camouflaged entrance.
 
He used his hands to outline the hatch-like opening.
 
This was definitely a door to somewhere underground.
 

“So that’s where these bastards are hiding.
 
Underground,” said Hugo.
 
“I knew it. I knew it.”

“Makes sense,” said Dane.
 
“I’m guessing that helicopter came from a covered underground cavern that can’t be seen from the air.”
 

“Now, that would be pretty sophisticated,” quipped Hugo.
 
“Somebody spent some money to build an underground heliport.
 
And it must be pretty big.”

“Well, if these guys are the ones with all the gold that would explain the underground complex and the stealth helicopter.
 
Both of those would cost millions,” explained Dane.
 
Hugo nodded his head in agreement.
 
“So far it looks like we are on the right track.”