RED HAZE: A Werewolf Story for the 21st Century (23 page)

“From there I worked with the French police for a total of seven years in Paris, Lyon and Marseilles, all of which led me to a position with the DST. From then on, among other more mundane assignments, I worked on the psychological profiles of several terrorists known in the Marseilles area. My advice and background evaluations eventually led to their arrest and demise,” she paused, “thankfully! After that, Commander Hertschell stepped in.”

“I’m impressed Jeanette, very impressed.” And he was.

There was a knock at the door and Nick Lucas stepped in. “Doctor Descard, Ash, fourteen minutes to final positioning. I just thought I’d let you know.”

“Thanks Nick.” The door closed. “Well, let’s get over to the Communications Room shall we Doctor?” Jeanette, with a beaming smile on her face, left her seat and followed Piper to the door. “And let’s see if Von Kurst Electronics have anything to hide,” he whispered, his face very close to hers.

“Jurgen Falck and Fritz Kempler! The Fuhrer is expecting us.”

The burly guard known as Jakob acknowledged the two men sitting in the green Audi A4. “Indeed sir, welcome back to Feldtberg Castle,” Jakob’s gaze moved across to the second guard, “open the gates.”

Slowly, the Audi drove through and up the resplendent castle’s main driveway, leading to the courtyard. “It is good to be back again, hey Fritz?” Jurgen Falck had noticed the guards were armed.

“Yes Jurgen, it seems the war is well under way.” They both laughed as Falck administered the handbrake and opened his door, the two men eagerly stepping out of the vehicle, only to be greeted by savage barking.

Wotan and Wiki ran enthusiastically into the courtyard as the car parked, but as Falck and Kempler exited the Audi, the dogs’ behaviour had suddenly changed. At first the German Shepherd dogs barked, then growled, their sharp teeth protruding from their peeled back snouts. Then, as the two Waffen SS veterans spoke calmly, the dogs rolled onto their backs, whimpering quietly in submission…for here were no ordinary men!

“Wilhelm’s dogs?”

“Yes… hello you two,” gently, Falck and Kempler petted the dogs, both of which continued to whine and whimper.

“Jurgen, Fritz, welcome back to Camelot!” Wilhelm Oratz briskly walked up the main hallway towards the two men now stood at the open front door. He held out his right hand in greeting. Both men shook it in turn.

“Wilhelm, how are you?”

“I am fine Jurgen, fine, I trust you are both in good health, or is that a stupid question to ask?”

“Yes, in good health as always Wilhelm.” Falck paused and looked across at the courtyard and around the castle walls. He whispered as he turned to Kempler, “I had forgotten how magnificent this castle is. It always reminds me of Wewelsburg Castle,” he laughed dryly, “and when we terrified Himmler, all those years ago!”

Just for a few seconds memories flooded back into Jurgen Falck’s mind. Memories of terrible days, of savagery and mayhem, and most of all, of bloody, brutal war! “Where is the Fuhrer, Wilhelm?” asked Falck.

“In his main office. Come, I will take you both, leave your coats and luggage here.” Oratz clicked his fingers and a camouflage uniformed man offered assistance. “We have a small detachment of grenadiers on duty for the time being, all the local staff have been sent home, we have no use for them at present. I am sure you understand.”

“We understand perfectly Wilhelm,” replied Kempler, smiling wryly.

“Okay, here we go, levelling out, preparing main cameras.” The Communications Room at CEATA Headquarters was alive with adrenaline. Behind Nick Lucas, CEATA’s senior staff waited patiently for their first overhead view of Von Kurst Electronics’ warehouse facility. “This American satellite is far superior to anything NATO has at present,” said Nick, “we can view at really close range and also go infrared, thermal and to night vision if required. Okay Jean-Paul, how’s it looking?”

“Good to go Nick, good to go!”

Ash Piper turned to Commander Hertschell and Colonel Mann. “Colonel, you look deeply concerned sir.”

Charles Mann, his arms folded, his face grim, cast his hardened gaze at Piper, “I am Sergeant, very concerned.”

“Okay, locking final position, switching to imaging systems, warehouse facility located, and…we’re on!” The screen flickered into life as a large aerial image of the city of Aachen and its outlying area came into view.

“Satellite technology never ceases to amaze me,” whispered Jeanette Descard.

“Especially the Americans’,” replied Piper as Nick and Jean-Paul busied themselves at their keyboards.

“Okay, going to half magnification, area view set for the Von Kurst Electronics warehouse facility…magnifying now!” Nick Lucas tapped his keyboard’s return button, and slowly but surely, a detailed image began to enlarge.

At the same time Ash Piper clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles cracking as he did so. Right, Mister Wilhelm Oratz, he thought, let’s see if you really are holding any secrets.

The door into Otto Von Kurst’s main office and study opened after a courteous knock.

“Jurgen, Fritz, it is so good to see you again my friends.” The man they both knew as the Fuhrer, briskly moved from his office desk and greeted them warmly. The handshakes were strong, so too, the click of the heels and the Nazi salute.

Jurgen Falck was the first to speak. “My Fuhrer, it is both a privilege and a pleasure to be in your company once again.”

Otto Von Kurst replied, the look on his face one of strong friendship, “the feeling is mutual my friends. Now, let me re-introduce you to Doctor Lana Franke.”

Both Falck and Kempler had forgotten how sexually attractive Lana Franke was. Gently, Falck took her hand, brought it up to his lips and softly kissed her velvet skin, the smell of the beautiful physician’s expensive perfume flaring his nostrils.  “My dear Doctor Franke, you are still as beautiful as ever.”

“And you are still as charming, Herr Hauptsturmfuhrer Falck.”

The greetings continued as Von Kurst spoke into his internal phone. “Helga, coffee and refreshments for our two newly arrived guests please…yes, we are in the office, thank you.” Von Kurst turned to his friends, “I have received apologies from Standartenfuhrer Bescann as his flight was delayed. Both he and Untersturmfuhrer Kreutz will be arriving in an hour or so.”

The conversation continued as the office door opened. “Refreshments for everyone,” Helga Zeist said, a warm, appealing smile sat on her radiant face.

Trying her best to hide the look of wanton jealousy in her eyes, Lana Franke stared fixedly at Otto Von Kurst’s secretary as she walked into the office. Just what the hell are you doing here, she thought, you bitch?

“Gentlemen,” said Von Kurst, “allow me to introduce you to my personal secretary, Ms Helga Zeist.”

Jurgen Falck, smiling once again, took Helga’s hand and brought it to his lips. Then…he faltered, his piercing gaze staring searchingly into Helga’s eyes, wondering if she had felt the same connection. Helga gasped, the look that met Falck’s, quickly telling him she had. 

“Herr Fraulein Zeist, it is a great pleasure to meet you,” gently, Falck kissed Helga’s hand, “a great pleasure indeed.”

“Thank you so much,” she replied, much to the annoyance of Lana Franke.

The coffee and cake were welcome and enjoyable. Von Kurst spoke again.

“Our meeting at the Round Table will commence at two o’clock precisely, until then everyone, the time is yours. However, may I suggest further preparation if required, as we have a great deal to discuss.” A grenadier knocked on the door and entered. “Jurgen, Fritz, this man will show you to your rooms.”

“Thank you.” Falck and Kempler made their way to the door, just as Otto Von Kurst spoke again, “my friends, I need to discuss a very important issue with you before our main meeting. Meet me here again at one o’clock.”

“Of course my Fuhrer,” replied Falck.

Deftly clicking their heels together, the two left the room along with Helga Zeist and Wilhelm Oratz. Smiling, Von Kurst walked across to the large sofa where Lana Franke sat staring at him intently. He sat beside her, drew close and kissed her cheek. “Something is troubling you Lana, isn’t it?” Von Kurst’s mistress was not happy, and he knew it.

“What are you hiding from me Otto…and I want the truth?”

Von Kurst sighed. “I am deeply disappointed in you Lana, deeply disappointed.”

“Oh…why?”

“You have a very, very suspicious mind, and I do not like that. I have nothing to hide from you my love, nothing at all.” Gently, Von Kurst’s powerful hands drew the beautiful physician’s face to his. They kissed deeply, passionately. “Did you bring the needles?” he whispered, his eyes alight with masochistic thoughts.

“Oh yes my darling, oh yes!” Their kissing intensified.

The knock on the lavatory door took Helga Zeist by surprise! It was one of the grenadiers, his voice full of concern, “Herr Fraulein Zeist, are you alright?”

“Yes,” she replied shakily, “I am fine, thank you.” The grenadier walked on, as Helga continued to vomit. 

14

THOUGHTS FOR A MARTYR

“Right, here we go, four buildings under one immense roofing structure giving a total size of four American football pitches.” As usual, Nick Lucas was pleased with himself, “Jean-Paul, extend magnification around the entrance to the facility please.”

“Certainly.” Jean Paul tapped dexterously at a keyboard to the side of him as the view over Von Kurst Electronics Warehouse facility moved slowly to the main access area.

“There are plenty of heavy goods vehicles entering and leaving,” Piper muttered.

“Let’s not lose reality here gentlemen,” Jeanette Descard glanced around at all concerned, “don’t forget, Von Kurst Electronics are major importers and exporters. Though their main point of sales is mainland Europe, they also cover a global business empire.” Descard’s colleagues listened intently. “This warehousing area, these four buildings under one roof, is their key ‘hub’ so to speak. It is vital for VKE’s success, growth and of course their survival in a very competitive market.”

“They certainly seem busy enough,” Jean-Paul re-directed his gaze from the screen to his boss, Nick Lucas. “The outer perimeter walls are at least six metres high and there seems to be standard security at the gatehouse.” The young Frenchman fell silent for a couple of seconds as the camera slowly changed direction, “there’s plenty of razor wire around the place. I would hate to get caught in that!”

“Don’t even think about it,” replied Nick, his face grimacing slightly. “Okay Commander we’re ready to run a full panoramic sweep of the area.”

“Do it,” replied Hertschell, “I want every centimetre of those buildings scanned.”

“Yes sir!”

Otto Von Kurst was pleased, but not overly so. The concrete and steel reinforced Operations Centre for the New Totenkopf was complete and operative, with two grenadiers keenly monitoring news reports from around Europe on several television screens. Directly in front of him, the large plasma screen fixed to the wall facing his desk was tuned to the Sky News channel.

The attacks had been successful. Over four thousand dead and just as many injured. Hatred was flaring, like sparks over a vat of petroleum and most importantly, reprisals had begun. Several cities including Paris, Munich, Brussels and Amsterdam had seen rioting in areas with high immigrant populations, with sporadic violence against Muslims being recorded in many towns across Europe. Local governments were appealing for calm, but the tinderboxes had already been lit.

Slowly, exuberantly, Von Kurst leaned back in his chair; the detachment of grenadiers on guard duty around Feldtberg Castle steadfastly making sure all security was in place. Yes, he thought, Claude, Jurgen and Fritz had accomplished miracles with the grenadier’s training programme. They will all receive his utmost gratitude at the Round Table. Quickly, Von Kurst turned his gaze to one of the small television screens to his right. Picking up his controller, he raised the volume and watched with growing interest.

“Currently, the March Against Immigrants is scheduled for Sunday and will finish in Hyde Park. So far, from reports coming in, between fifteen to twenty thousand people are expected to take part. Police Commissioner Gordon Kempton of the Metropolitan Police has applied to ban the march because of his growing concerns.”

The scene deftly moved to a senior police officer giving an interview to a British Broadcasting Company reporter. Smiling contentedly, Von Kurst continued to watch. Perfect he thought, absolutely perfect!

“Yes, I am greatly concerned. I feel sure the BNP have organised this so-called March Against Immigrants, mainly to increase tensions among local communities where we have large immigrant populations. Yes, this is a worrying situation, but rest assured we will be deploying a high police presence to ensure the event proceeds peacefully, and safely.”

Not if my grenadiers can help it thought Von Kurst, his smile now broad and wicked.

“Still nothing, it all looks fine to me.” With his face etched in deep concentration, Nick Lucas nimbly handled the small controller for the Satellite Imaging System.

“There’s plenty of activity within the place, people walking around and working in their offices, forklift trucks loading and unloading. Yeah, from what I can see it’s your standard type of warehousing facility.”

Ash Piper sighed, slowly shaking his head in disbelief, his feelings of agitation growing by the minute.

Colonel Mann turned to Commander Hertschell. “I have to agree with Nick, Maurice, the buildings just seem to be full of containers and crates, probably from all over the world. From what we can see, everything is as it should be.”

Again Piper sighed, “another bloody wild goose chase,” he mumbled.

“But what is in those crates?” Everyone stared at Jeanette Descard, her voice full of suspicion. “Well,” she said, “I’m not satisfied with what we have viewed so far! Just what do those crates contain?”

“Doctor Descard,” Nick looked solemnly at Jeanette, “we’ve used image intensifiers, x-ray and thermal vision on three of the buildings already. There is nothing but industrial goods in that warehousing area.”

“Alright,” Colonel Mann interrupted, “scan the fourth building Nick, that still has to be checked, and then everyone… that’s it!” Charles Mann did not want to give up hope, but he had to admit to himself, it was looking highly unlikely that Wilhelm Oratz of Von Kurst Electronics could be associated with a major terrorist organisation. With a brief look of indignation, the Colonel’s thoughts returned to his initial meeting with Piper, to the Rostov video footage and the carnage caused by the beast he had witnessed on film. The Werewolf!  The stuff of fantasy and nightmares, but not just fantasy any longer, they did exist, these…human wolves. The Colonel sighed, a long, deep sigh, his eyes fixed once again on the imagery of the VKE Warehouse facility. Something just isn’t right he thought. I just know it!

“Are you alright sir?” Piper enquired.

“Yes Sergeant,” just for a second or two Charles Mann gazed vacantly at CEATA’s own werewolf, “I’m fine.”

It was nearly one p.m. as Otto Von Kurst entered his main office. No sooner had he sat down, when the expected knock at the door took place. He knew who it was.

“Jurgen, Fritz, come in please.” The door opened and in stepped the two men who had previously fought alongside his father in the Waffen SS Totenkopf Division, during the dark, terrible days of World War Two.

Just like Otto Von Kurst, Jurgen Falck and Fritz Kempler had hardly aged over the years, their minds and bodies keeping in perfect health. Both men clicked their heels, lowered their heads slightly and brought their right arms up in the Nazi salute.  Von Kurst stood rigidly to attention and returned the gesture. “My friends; please sit down.” They did so. Von Kurst’s mood was sombre, the look in his eyes, thoughtful. Another knock at the door, it was Helga with coffee.

“Thank you Helga, leave the tray on my desk.” Helga Zeist did not speak; she only looked. First at the man she still loved, then at the others, the men she had felt the connection with. The two named Falck and Kempler nodded their heads towards her but said nothing as Helga left the office and closed the door.

“You both know why I need to speak to you before our general meeting, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Falck replied, “we have sensed him too.”

Von Kurst spoke again, this time with a hint of menace. “The man we all sense has generated fully to Were form and is now one of us.” There was silence for a few seconds, “I have entered his dreamscape, but I fear the worst.”

“We understand,” this time Kempler spoke, “so the hunt is reversed?”

“It would seem that way, although he is of our kind, he fights against us. This cannot be allowed to continue.”

Jurgen Falck leaned forward, his voice almost a whisper, “then we will hunt him down, and kill him!”

Silence fell across the room. Von Kurst was in deep thought. “That will not be necessary my friend, for the wolf inside him is young and inexperienced.” Von Kurst’s tone of voice lowered, it was if he was beginning to growl. “He will come to me…and then, if he will not join us and our cause… I will kill him myself.”

“And the woman…Helga?”

“Helga is beginning her journey. I suspect she will be one of our kind very soon. I will take care of her, but I will need your help.” Both Waffen SS veterans nodded their heads in anticipation of what was to be asked of them. Von Kurst continued, “at present I fear for Helga’s sanity, for she has a kind and gentle nature. Her new form will terrify her if she is not given careful guidance. Jurgen, Fritz…” Von Kurst looked out of the office window into the main castle forecourt, his thoughts penetrating into the surrounding forest, “when the time is right, you must take Helga into the forest and to the hunt. You must…for me, give her your guidance as well.”

Falck replied for both men, “of course my Fuhrer, of course!”

There was a disturbance outside, Wotan and Wiki were barking. The final guests, the two who would complete the seating at the Round Table, had arrived.

“What the hell!” Ash Piper leaned closer to the screen, not looking at Nick Lucas as he spoke, “magnify that area, I want a more detailed view of the man with the guard dog!” The view in front of the small gathering of people increased in magnification as Piper spoke again, this time with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “Correct me if I am wrong here, but the security guard we are now viewing…is armed.” Nick extended the magnification even further, “and if I’m not mistaken, he’s carrying a semi automatic rifle.”

There was silence for a few seconds, which was suddenly broken by Jeanette Descard.

“Why does Von Kurst Electronics want to employ armed guards, especially as they are breaking the law in doing so?” She stared at Commander Hertschell who stood ready to voice his opinion on the new situation now enveloping the CEATA team.

“This is the rear area of the facility isn’t it Nick, Building Four?”

“It is sir, and what a difference in security, just hold on a second.” Slowly, painstakingly, Nick adjusted the small, but precise control stick. “Let’s go infra-red shall we?”

Piper nodded, “you’re thinking exactly what I am Mister Lucas…bingo!”

“Good heavens,” Jeanette Descard sounded genuinely surprised as she viewed the finely detailed image on the screen. The inside of Building Four was now crisscrossed with faint red lines.

“Well, well, well,” exclaimed Piper, “it seems we’ve stumbled on an infra-red security system.”  Piper’s heartbeat started to race. Perhaps we are onto something after all, he thought.

The greetings were warm, the handshakes strong. Standartenfuhrer Claude Bescann bowed his head slightly and clicked his heels together, so too, did Untersturmfuhrer Jochen Kreutz.  “My Fuhrer, please accept my apologies, unfortunately our flight was delayed somewhat.”

“There is no need for apologies my friend, these things happen.” Otto Von Kurst smiled warmly at Bescann and Kreutz, “Jochen, I trust you are well?”

The tall blonde haired, powerful looking man did not smile. “Of course my Fuhrer, of course.”

“Good, the circle is now complete.”

“Are Falck and Kempler here?” enquired Bescann.

“Indeed so, they are looking forward to seeing you again, but for now…” Von Kurst turned to a grenadier who had arrived at their sides, “show these two gentlemen to their rooms.” He turned again to Bescann then looked at his watch, “gentlemen, the Round Table meets at two o’clock, you have just over thirty minutes to freshen up.”

“No problem my Fuhrer, we shall be there.”

“Good, Helga will bring coffee and refreshments immediately, I will see you both later.” Again, they shook hands as Von Kurst left the main hallway and stepped back into his office with Bescann and Kreutz following the grenadier upstairs.

How he had waited for this moment thought Claude Bescann, ever since that first, fateful meeting at the dinner party in the Paris Hilton Hotel. Bescann discreetly smiled to himself. It was fate he thought, the coming together of two highly intellectual minds, to rid Europe of its infestation of immigrants. The timing had been perfect, his retirement as Director General of the GIGN giving him time to prepare plans with his Fuhrer, his farmhouse outside Versailles and its surrounding land having been perfect for military training, and so very, very private.

Katherine, his former wife, had divorced Bescann several years earlier and taken the two children, not that it bothered him, for he had never had time for them. For most of the adult years of his life, Claude Bescann had been a career man, proud and dutiful…especially now. 

“So,” Commander Maurice Hertschell faced his colleagues, “we have one warehouse facility, with four buildings under one roof. Three of the buildings are fitted with two standard security systems and from what we have viewed so far, the working procedures of the VKE staff around these areas seems perfectly normal…” the senior team members at CEATA Headquarters listened intently, “…and now, as we can plainly see, Building Four has a highly advanced infra-red security system attached to it. So everyone…your conclusions please!”