The pilot smiled at himself and turned to the others. “I used to work at a power plant during the war,” he said with a smile. “The shaking is the water rushing through some the large diameter piping leading under this facility. We diverted some of it to run that big generator back there. My guess is the water empties as the waterfall we have outside,” he said pointing back toward the door. The pilot turned again and looked at another panel. He reached down and threw some large switches. “The circuit breakers are now on. I bet the house has power now,” he said. “This is a nice set up.”
“Is it okay to leave this on?” Anderson asked.
The pilot nodded. “With this equipment, it should run indefinitely. We will be good.”
The men left the room and rushed back to the house. There was no need for the flashlights now. The tunnel was illuminated by lights along the sides. When they got to the end of the tunnel they were in for another surprise. The mist had cleared and the valley, with its lake and waterfall were gleaming in the sunlight. The tunnel had acted as a vacuum and had allowed the mist to empty.
In the house, with the press of a switch, the massive chandeliers in the dining room glistened and sconces that looked like a hand holding a torch gleamed brightly. “It looks like you have not only a house, but your own electric company,” Dietz kidded Anderson.
On a whim, Anderson rechecked the kitchen. There was a sound of an electric motor when he went in. A large, two door refrigerator was on and when he opened it, was producing cold air. Next to the refrigerator was a door they had missed. It led to a walk in freezer. The more Anderson discovered, the more he fell in love with this house. It would be a perfect second home for his family and a nice place to eventually retire to.
Anderson went back to the large living area to find the other two lounging on the leather sofas. Unfortunately, the leather had cracked and was coming apart in places. “It looks like you’re still going to have to get some new furniture,” Dietz said.
“That’s okay. I don’t really like that Teutonic style anyway. I’ll turn Mary onto it. She’ll have this place like she wants it in no time,” Anderson said. “You two want to see anything else?”
Both men shook their heads. “What are your plans, Al?” Dietz asked.
Anderson smiled broadly. “By next week, I plan on having fifty workers up here turning this place into my own little castle. Give me a couple of months, and you guys won’t recognize the place,” he said confidently.
Chapter 5
Building and Tearing Down
Stadt was worried. No sooner did he get the trucks ready for the first load but the Americans emptied the storage tanks to move the fuel somewhere in Italy. He attempted to get a truck load of diesel oil, but as he had pointed out, people were everywhere around the terminal looking at paperwork. One of his men had a good idea. Since most of the trains now used diesels they might get the fuel at a marshalling yard. A quick check came up with nothing. The fuel tanks didn’t really hold more than a few days of fuel. There wouldn’t be enough and almost impossible to get without someone noticing. Everyone was frustrated.
Stadt couldn’t imagine that getting such a common fuel would be so difficult. The worst part was that the second group had no problem at all getting the nitric acid. He had figured that part would be the hardest. But by siphoning off only a truckload at a time the old fertilizer plant hadn’t even noticed.
He was pulling his truck into the station to pick up a load of waste oil when he noticed activity at the far storage area again. After pulling onto the loading ramp he set the brake and walked over to the old ramp supervisor who was taking down numbers.
“What’s going on over there?” Stadt asked innocently.
The old supervisor turned to look and spit on the ground. “The damned Americans are up to their old tricks. They demand we give them storage whenever they have a need. I was going to use those tanks to stock up more heating oil but now it’s too late. I hope the tanks rupture on them,” he said in disgust.
“What are they storing this time?” Stadt asked.
“Same thing, some of their special fuel.”
“Kerosene? What’s so special about that?”
The old man looked a little upset at having to answer all the questions. “How should I know? Maybe they use it to cook their sausages.”
Stadt saw the look on the old man’s face and backed off. He shook his head. “We would better use the heating oil,” he said in a disgusted tone.
The old man growled and turned away to register another truck that pulled up. Stadt stood staring at the activity in the far yard. Now they could get the fuel they needed. He would report to the General tonight.
The Anderson house had been a little disturbing to Dresner. He had thought they had found every place the old regime had built in this part of the country, but that had not been the case. Already there were rumors of hidden Nazi bunkers full of gold, money, even the Russian Amber Room from Leningrad. With everything else, he didn’t need that kind of headache. Luckily, no one seemed to pick up on the find. He had personally gone to the house with Al Anderson the day after it was opened. The cars caught his eye.
“These are beauties,” he exclaimed to Anderson.
Anderson slapped him on the back. “Brings back old times don’t they,” he said to his friend. “I already called the Daimler Benz plant. I’m getting them to come in and totally refurbish this one,” he said pointing to the Mercedes. “The Rolls I am getting checked out and reworked locally and the Volkswagen will be taken to Wolfsburg. They seemed very interested in getting it back there,” he said.
“It should be interesting to see who actually owned these things,” Dresner said staring at the tag number of the Mercedes. “I remember seeing these before the war. Seemed like all the big leaders had one,” he said. “I remember when…” Dresner stopped talking and stared again at the front of the car. He walked to the passenger seat, opened the door and stared up at the back of the windshield. There was a chrome hand hold above the visor. Then he looked at the floor of the car. There was a carpeted box just a few inches tall sticking out from under the seat.
Dresner closed his eyes as his mind flashed back twenty six years when he had taken a day from classes to go to see the parades. “Nuremburg,” he said slowly and softly with his eyes closed.
Al Anderson knew something was wrong. He reached out and took his friend by the arm to steady him if needed. Dresner’s eyes opened and he stared at his friend. There was fear in the eyes, something Anderson had never seen. “What’s wrong, Rolf?”
Dresner shook his head slowly almost wishing he had seen a mirage. “I could be mistaken, but I don’t think so,” he said quietly. “I have seen this car before,” he said.
“So?”
“You don’t understand. The last time I saw this car, it was taking Adolf Hitler through the streets of Nuremburg to the Nazi party rallies in 1936.”
Letter Number 36
September 1, 1962
My Dearest Anna,
Thank you for letting me know Dad, Mom and Sis are fine. They left home last month to fix up the new place and we don’t hear much from them. When I talked to Dad last time he gave me a mountain of work to do for the company and said they were saving everything for a surprise when I get back there. So I’m here trying to keep everything going while they have all the fun. My latest project is to design a building to house the mainframe computer at my old school, Virginia Tech. They are purchasing a new Sperry-Univac computer to help them with their planning and administration. Just designing the floors to hold these things is a task. The wiring alone is tremendous. So far they like the plans.