‘I am a scientist, not an occultist!’
‘Anyone familiar with the history of the Nazi movement knows that the occult strain ran deep in its ranks. I find it hard to believe that you would stray far from those beliefs.’
‘How dare you!’ Dr Uhlemann physically recoiled, as though he’d just been splashed with acid. ‘The occultists are no different to those addicted to the crutch of organized religion. They should all be led to the nearest funeral pyre.’
‘As I recall, your Führer once claimed that “A new age of magic interpretation of the world is coming”.’
‘Pure poppycock!’ Dr Uhlemann exclaimed angrily. ‘They ruined our perfect society. The one that we worked so hard to achieve. For them, everything had a mystical implication. Even the initials SS had a magical meaning.’
‘The word “Schutzstaffel” means special staff.’ Cædmon’s brows drew together in a questioning pucker. ‘What in God’s name is magical about that?’
‘Absolutely nothing. However, those two initials also stand for “schwarz sonne ”.’
‘Ah! Of course. The Black Sun,’ Cædmon translated. ‘Also known as Sirius. Which, coincidentally, is due to rise at any moment.’
The irony of the addendum was lost on Dr Uhlemann.
‘They worshipped their Black Sun like a coven of superstitious pagans. There were officers in the SS who thought they could win the war with Ouija boards and Runic magic. Outright quackery is what it was. How educated men could fall victim to such outlandish delusions is truly astonishing.’
‘Not so astonishing given that many in the Nazi high command dabbled in the dark arts.’ With only four minutes left, Cædmon was still grounded, still steady at the helm.
‘They did more than dabble. They were brainwashed devotees, Hitler their prophet and Himmler their high priest,’ Dr Uhlemann said accusingly. ‘In the end, their minds had become unhinged, corrupted by occult lunacies. Is there any wonder that we lost the war?’
‘Most historians would agree that their occultism proved a fatal idée fixe.’
Dr Uhlemann concurred with a vigorous nod. ‘That is the reason why our fathers will rid the German high command of this dangerous occult element. Once that is done, the way will be paved to immediately begin the military campaign in the Middle East.’
‘But, as you said, Hitler himself was a member of this esoteric coven.’ Cædmon frowned, clearly perplexed. ‘How are you going to persuade him that science is superior to magic?’
‘We have no intention of persuading him … we intend to assassinate Adolf Hitler.’
Hearing that, Kate’s eyes opened wide. The moment, indeed, the entire situation, had just turned unbelievably surreal.
‘Or, rather, my father and his colleagues in the Seven will have the honour of committing the regicide,’ Dr Uhlemann clarified.
If Cædmon was surprised by the announcement, he hid it well. ‘There were many attempts on Hitler’s life, most of them plotted by members of the Nazi Party. How can you be so sure that your attempt will succeed?’
‘To use an oft-repeated cliché, hindsight is twenty-twenty vision,’ Dr Uhlemann informed him. ‘We know that the Führer and the occult members of his inner circle will all be in attendance at the 1940 Schutzstaffel Christmas party. The festivities will be held at the Löwenbräu Keller in Munich. We have put together a detailed assassination plan which we will transmit to our fathers via our CTC device. Trust me … no one will leave the Löwenbräu Keller alive.’
‘Damned diabolical,’ Cædmon muttered. ‘Part of me actually hopes that you succeed.’
Dolf Reinhardt suddenly stepped forward. Eyes glistening with unshed tears, he shook with a barely restrained emotion.
‘Nein! Nein! Nein!’
85
0628 hours
‘Obviously, someone forgot to send Cue Ball the “Kill Hitler” memo,’ Finn muttered under his breath.
‘What is happening here?’ the chauffeur bellowed. ‘Has everyone lost their mind?’
‘If you cannot control yourself, Dolf, you will have to leave the room,’ Uhlemann threatened in a patronizing tone, speaking to the big goon as though he were a six-year-old child. ‘It’s obvious that you’re confused.’
‘I want you to answer my question, Herr Doktor! What is happening here!?’ Wide-eyed, Dolf clutched the Ruger P89 to his chest; his very own nine-mil teddy bear.
Finn glanced at the clock. Fuck. Two minutes until sunrise. Aisquith was convinced the design flaw in the Vril Generator would cause an explosion due to an energy build-up. Add to that the six pipe bombs stashed next door in the maintenance engineering room and they’d all be blown to Sirius and back.
Determined to go down fighting, Finn swung his head in Aisquith’s direction, silently signalling to the Brit that he had a plan. He then looked over at the bewildered bald dude.
‘Not only are you confused, but you are definitely out of the loop,’ Finn told the chauffeur, hoping to stoke him into shutting down the show. A lame duck, if he so much as lifted his ass off the chair, Angelika would put a bullet right between his eyes. ‘Here’s the simplified version. The star Sirius is due to appear in the dawn sky in two minutes. When that happens, your boss is gonna use the astral energy from the star to generate the Vril force. That’s a kind of fused energy that emits a blue light. Uhlemann needs that blue light to open a hole in the space–time continuum so he can travel back to the year 1940 and kill Adolf Hitler.’
‘Is this true, Herr Doktor?’ The chauffeur’s expression of disbelief was almost comical.
Clearly outraged by the insurrection, Uhlemann shot his subordinate a glacial stare, refusing to answer.
‘It’s true, Dolf,’ Kate volunteered, her features stamped with abject fear. ‘Doctor Uhlemann showed me the time machine.’
To say that Dolf was crestfallen would be putting it mildly; tears were running down his cheeks and snot was dripping from his nose.
‘My mother was the Führer’s little handmaid,’ the big slobbering bastard rasped in a hoarse voice. ‘My grandfather was his chauffeur.’
‘Hitler’s chauffeur? No shit. I’m impressed,’ Finn lied. ‘I’m guessing he was in the SS, right?’
Wiping a ribbon of snot with the back of his hand, the other man nodded. ‘He was an officer in the Reich Security Service.’
Realizing that was the perfect segue, Finn, winging it all the way, said, ‘So it’s a given that he would have driven the Führer to the Christmas party in 1940. The two of them probably sang a couple of rounds of “Silent Night” on the way to the big shindig. Once they get there, your grandfather will be having a good time, drinking a little eggnog, then Kaboom! Silent night. Auf wiedersehen. You heard Uhlemann; no one is gonna leave the Löwenbräu Keller alive. Helluva way to go.’
The realization that his own grandfather would be killed in the planned massacre suddenly dawned in Dolf’s watery eyes. In that instant, he went from confused lapdog to snarling Rottweiler. Teeth clenched, he aimed the Ruger P89 at his master’s head. ‘How could you destroy my family like this? I sacrificed everything for you.’
Proving that he was an old-school Prussian, Uhlemann glared at his rabid dog. Unbowed and unafraid.
‘Hah! What did you sacrifice?’ Angelika jeered. ‘A few dinners with your old mutti?’
‘Leave my mother out of this!’
‘This is sheer idiocy. Give me the gun.’ A leather-clad dominatrix, Angelika stomped her booted foot imperiously on the floor. ‘Now!’