The German Connection (True Fiction Series Book 1) Read online

  The others laughed and he called me over, 'Come here boy, I want to meet you.'

  I went over and saluted him like I had seen the others do, I said, 'Hello, Chancellor Borman, it is a great honor to meet you.'

  I knew who Bormann was, I had read about him in history books at school, he hadn't been caught at end of the war and was presumed to be dead or in South America on the run. He was not on the run tonight however, he was here right in front of me. He looked a lot older than the pictures I had seen, and with less hair, but it was undeniably him.

  He laughed, 'To you, from now on I am always uncle Martin. If you are ever in trouble, you can call on uncle Martin for help, OK Klaus?'

  'Yes, sir, of course, thank you.' I replied.

  'I told you, not sir,' he smiled. 'Uncle Martin, don't ever forget.'

  With that, my father told me to leave the room and wait downstairs for him, so I said goodbye to them all and left. About an hour later he came and met me downstairs and we left the party. He spoke to me on the drive back to the hotel and made me swear to never tell a soul about that night. He told me that I was a lucky boy and that I should never tell anyone about the man I had met. I promised, and to this day I have kept that promise, you are the only person I have ever told.”

  Chapter 7. Promised

  I was stunned, Klaus's story sounded like some spy novel…Martin Bormann? There is no way it was him; I can believe that Klaus's dad knew some ex-Nazis, but Bormann, it sounded like a mixed up kid's fantasy to me.

  I said, “Are you sure, Johann? Sorry, I mean Klaus. Bormann by most accounts died at the end of the war, how do you know it was him, and how did he just show up in Germany undetected after all those years?”

  “I know it sounds like bullshit,” he said forcefully, “but it's true; my father has spoken about that night many times to me since then, and he still does whenever I meet him. He is a serious man, he would never joke about something like that.”

  “What a story,” I said, “so where do you think Bormann is now then?”

  “I am pretty sure he is in Argentina; that night was the last time he ever set foot in Germany. It would be far too risky for him to go back there again. Even though it was only a few years ago, the Nazis still had a lot of ex-comrades and sympathizers ready to turn a blind eye. I do know however, that my father has been to see him several times in South America since that night at the party.”

  Klaus finished his beer and tossed the empty can into a green trashcan fixed to a telephone pole.

  He continued. “Bormann had a lot of money after the war; he set up Swiss bank accounts in various names and siphoned off funds from German industry, as well as Hitler's own money. He used it to enable his escape and also the escape of several of his friends, he bought favors in South America, namely Argentina, and ensured that he would never be discovered there. People like my father who were set free after the war have kept him supplied with money and protection ever since.”

  I was at a loss for words, but I could only think of one thing.

  “You have to tell the authorities, Klaus. Bormann is a monster responsible for the death of thousands, if not millions of innocent people, he needs to be brought to justice before he dies.”

  This clearly troubled him. “I know what you say is right, but I would have to betray my father. Besides, no one really cares about these old Nazis anymore. Even the Israelis would have trouble deporting him because their country was not in existence when he committed these crimes.”

  I had to disagree. “This is different, this is not some low level camp guard, this is Hitler's right hand man, he was privy to everything Hitler did, and gave direct orders for the mass slaughter of men, women and children.”

  By this time the lake-house was in sight, we stopped to finish our conversation so that we did not take it inside in front of everyone else.

  Klaus was adamant, “Look, he deserves to be hung for what he did, but my father will be sent to prison, I told you this in confidence, so you can't tell anyone about this, promise me.”

  I really didn't want to, but I had already promised Klaus before he started, so reluctantly I promised for a second time to never tell a soul about it.

  “I promise, let us just drop this and forget you ever mentioned it, you are my friend and that is very important to me. I just have one more thing to ask, I have to call you Klaus from now on, yeah?”

  “Yes, that is my name, but I will still be Johann to your family.”

  We embraced each other and started walking back to the house. I kept my word, and I never mentioned it to him or anyone else again.

  Chapter 8. Secret Agent

  When the summer ended, Klaus went back home and I made plans to visit him in Germany once I had graduated, but fate did not allow it. I finished my degree and decided that I wanted to follow in my father's footsteps and become an agent.

  I got accepted after college and started basic training. After only a month, I received some devastating news from my dad, Klaus had been killed in a car crash in Hamburg. His stepfather, Mr. Adler, had also been killed, apparently they were going to watch a soccer match and then going on to see Klaus's father, but something happened with the car and it spun out of control, and they were both killed.

  The autopsy said Klaus was driving, and was over the legal alcohol limit, something that did not sit right with me. Klaus was an occasional drinker, but he always had a thing about not drinking and driving because a drunk driver killed his mother. I had seen him get into confrontations in bars, because he would take someone's car keys away from them and not let them drive if they were drunk. I decided to go to his funeral and see what I could find out.

  I was given special leave by the agency because of the circumstances, a one week pass, and then I would have to catch up with the rest of my class. My dad had used his influence to pull some strings, but I really wanted to go, Klaus had been my best friend for a long time. I owed it to him and his family to pay my respects.

  Chapter 9. Berlin

  When I arrived in Berlin for Klaus's funeral I was met at the airport by the Adlers, they were all in an understandably somber mood, they had lost their father and their stepson/brother, but when I got back to their home I saw someone that I didn't expect to see.

  Sitting in the front-room were several family members, most of whom I remembered, except for an older man sitting in the corner. They introduced him as Klaus's biological father, I guess the secret didn't matter any more. At first I was slightly taken aback, but the man greeted me with a smile and said that he knew who I was, and that Klaus had told him all about me, his best friend. We talked for a while and then he asked if I would like to go out onto the patio and drink to his son's memory, of course I obliged.

  He looked nervous as we walked out. He kept looking back towards the house as if to see who was watching us or who was in earshot.

  Once we got outside he got straight to the point.

  “You know, Klaus's death was no accident, he was killed, and they said it was drunk driving, but no way, not Klaus.”

  I agreed. “Yes sir, that was my first thought also. Klaus hated drunk driving more than anything, he told me about his mother, your wife.”

  He nodded and said. “Please, call me Erich, I feel like we are family, sir is so formal.”

  “Oh, of course, Erich.”

  He continued. “The trouble is, I think it is because of me that he was killed. I know he told you about who I am, and about some of my friends in South America, he told when he came back after visiting you this summer. He also told me that you could be trusted and would never tell anyone, did you tell anyone?”

  I replied forcefully. “Absolutely not, I wanted to tell the authorities, believe me, but I promised him I would never tell anyone, and I never have.”

  He continued, “Because you know, if you did tell people about my comrades and I, that would alert certain people who do not like us, people who would try and get to me through him. I am old and I don'
t have long left; killing me is pointless, but killing my son is something my enemies know would torture me until I die, to me it is worse than death.”

  I countered back straight away, “Erich I told you, I did not tell anyone, I promised Klaus and I kept that promise, I walked away from that conversation the night he told me and I never mentioned it to him or anyone else ever again.”

  “OK, OK,” he said. “I believe you, but the question is, who killed him and why? If it was because of me, how did they find out who he was, and what else do they know?”

  I said, “The only other people who knew about you were the Adlers, and they loved Klaus as much as you do, and one of them is dead also.”

  “That is very true, and I am making inquiries into the situation right now. I have some very enthusiastic young men working for me who can be very persuasive when they have to be, we will find out what happened to Klaus, so I hope you are telling me the truth.”

  Again, I assured him that I was telling him the truth. I told him that I was in town for a week and if he needed me for anything I would be staying with the Adler family.

  He said goodbye and left. He may have been getting on in years, but he carried an air of arrogance and intimidation about him. I had no doubt that he would do whatever he had to do to bring his son's killer to justice.

  The funeral service went ahead. Understandably, it was a hard day for all of us. A large group of Klaus's friends took me out with them drinking to a pub in town afterwards, we talked about him and celebrated his life, I have not been that drunk in a very long time.

  Chapter 10. Loan Sharks

  The morning after the funeral I woke up with the hangover from hell. I spent most of the morning trying not to be sick in the Adler's house. At 11.30am I got a call from Erich, he said he had some news for me concerning Klaus's death and was sending a car over to pick me up, because he could not talk about it on the phone.

  The car arrived about 20 minutes later, and I jumped in the back, there were two burly Germans sitting inside, one driving, and one in the back. The guy in the back did all the talking, as we pulled away he told me that I had to wear a blindfold, for my own protection, so I could not tell anyone where I had been.

  I was obviously a bit wary at this point; a lot of things started racing through my mind. I knew that Erich had suspected me of telling people about him, and I was sure that killing someone like me probably wasn't going to bother an ex-Nazi, but I wanted to find out what had happened. I did as I was told and sat back for the 30 minute drive.

  We pulled up and the two men helped me out of the car; they kept my blindfold on. They walked me along and I heard a metal sounding door open, once we were inside they removed the blindfold and I saw that we were standing in a spacious warehouse with several rows of wooden packing crates lined up. Erich was sitting on a chair, waiting, he got up and walked over to me.

  “Sorry about the cloak and dagger, it is for your protection not ours, I hope the boys were gentle with you?”

  They all laughed and he carried on. “Do not worry young man, you are in no danger, I know what you meant to my son, and I know you didn't tell anyone anything, you have nothing to fear from us. I want to ask you something, how badly do you want his killers caught and brought to justice?”

  I had no doubt, “I would love that to happen, they need to pay for what they did.”

  He continued, “If I was to catch his killers and bring them to justice, outside the law, could I trust that you would not tell the Police, or anyone else?”

  I wasn't sure why he was asking me these questions, surely he could take care of Klaus's murderers without consulting me? The way I was feeling, with the emotions of the funeral still very much alive inside of me, I felt as though I could easily pull the trigger on whoever killed Klaus. The reality of the situation was, that although I was not a cold blooded killer (it's one thing to think about it, or to think you want to do it, but another entirely different thing to actually kill a human being standing in front of you), if someone was going to, or had, harmed me or anyone close to me, I would not have a problem killing them.

  I told him I could be trusted.

  He asked me to follow him, and we walked into a second smaller room. Inside the room were two light brown skinned men, from my local knowledge I would guess that they were probably Turkish. One of them was tied to a chair with some rope, he was covered in blood and had several open wounds on his head and face. The second man was hanging from a chain around each wrist, attached to a metal rafter across the ceiling.

  Erich explained, “These two pieces of shit are loan sharks from Hamburg. Adler borrowed a lot of money from them to pay his debts, but he could not pay them back. He made unsanctioned threats from our organization against them, and they killed him. He was not in Hamburg for the soccer, he was there to meet with these two, and then Klaus was going to bring him to me to ask for help. The meeting did not go well and they killed Adler and Klaus, then they made it look like a drunk driving accident using their local Police influence. Unfortunately for them, their influence does not run as deep as ours.”

  My emotions were mixed. On one hand I looked at the two men full of hatred for what they had done, I wanted them to pay. On the other hand, seeing signs of torture did not sit easy with me. If I was totally honest with myself, my conscience dictated that I would rather the Police dealt with them, but the time for that was obviously past.

  Erich said, “So, we have been having a little conversation with these two for a few hours, to find out what happened, and now we have to decide on their punishment.”

  The man on the chair shouted, “He's lying; we didn't kill anyone, don't believe him.”

  One of the German men kicked him in the face with the sole of his shoe.

  “I read somewhere that we live in a democracy these days, so I want to put it to a vote, shall we kill them or let the Police deal with them, the four of us all have a vote. Who wants them dead?”

  Erich and the two German men raised their hands, and then all looked at me.

  “Of course I want them dead, but shouldn't we let the authorities deal with them?” I asked.

  Erich answered. “You would think so, but some smart lawyer will spout his bullshit, and they will worm their way out of it using their money. They will probably serve 6 months and be back on the street, is that justice for Klaus?”

  I had to answer “No.”

  “So, it is decided, we will all take part and swear an oath to never reveal what happened here today, or we ourselves will receive the same punishment.

  He handed me a right hand glove and a pistol. The handle and the trigger were all taped up like a street gun.

  “You first, shoot one of them.” He said.

  What could I do? The two loan sharks had killed my best friend, and I had a feeling that there was a good chance I wouldn't walk out of there alive if I did not do as I was told.

  Memories of Klaus and fear for my own safety made the decision for me. I shot the man on the chair in the chest; he groaned, but he was still alive. Erich grabbed the pistol from me and shot him twice in the head, then the two Germans finished off the man hanging from the chain with a shot each to his chest.

  Erich turned to me. “Good, I didn't think you would do it, but now we are all brothers together, God help anyone one of us who betrays the others.”

  The two guys started to clean the place up, Erich put the blindfold on me and drove me back to the Adler's house.

  When we arrived he took off my blindfold and said, “I may never see you again, but thank you for being a good friend to Klaus, the matter is finished, and now I just have to live out my days with the pain of his death, have a safe trip home.”

  I was not proud of what I had been involved in. I tried to justify it by telling myself it was only payback for them killing Klaus, it was something I was going to have to come to terms with.

  I flew home a couple days later and went back to finish my training. I completed it and gr
aduated as an agent. Soon after, I received the news that Erich had died of a heart attack at his home. There was not much press about his death, but I did read one article in a German magazine that gave a brief history of his life, and stated that he was believed to be the last man to see Hitler alive, but he had never confirmed or denied the rumor.

  This brings me back to where I started, and why I was building a new identity for myself.

  Chapter 11. Back To The Beginning

  Klaus had mentioned to me that night at the Lake that no one was interested in old Nazis, and that seemed to be pretty much true. The US had recruited the Nazis they wanted after the war or had used them in secret; many of the others had found refuge with right wing Dictators down in South America. I had a very bad taste in my mouth because of the possibility that Martin Bormann was still alive in Argentina, but would anyone else care?

  I had made a promise to Klaus not to tell anyone about Bormann, and I had kept that promise. I really did not want to be responsible for his father spending his last years in prison, he was no Saint, but as far as I knew, he never killed any civilians during the war. Things had changed. Klaus was dead, and so was his father, I began to feel as though my promise was fulfilled, neither of them could be harmed now.

  I did a lot of research using the agency resources in my spare time. There were reported sightings of Nazis all over the world, most of them turned out to be untrue, the years had passed by and the Cold War and the Russians were more of a worry now than some old Nazis. Resources were used on what was seen as the biggest threat to the USA, Nazis were way down the list of priorities, and in fact they were no longer on the radar.

  I had casually mentioned to a few of my superiors that I had spent my childhood in Germany, and tried to bring the conversation around to Nazis that were still alive. None of them ever took the bait, or even seemed to care, that was until I met Josh Levin.

  Josh had been an agent for twelve years. I was assigned to his team, their main interest was investigating international fraud. After a few months of working with him I felt comfortable enough to mention the agencies lack of interest when it came to old Nazis or war criminals.