David Golemon: Legacy

Heinrich Himmler adjusted his glasses as he read. When he was done he made a show of placing the paper perfectly in line with the previous pages of the report and then slowly closed the folder. He tapped the thick binder with a single finger as though he were coming to some monumental conclusion derived from careful thought. However much Himmler tried to disguise his demeanor, Speer knew the calculating little bastard did nothing, not even speak, without thoroughly thinking it through beforehand. The demonstration he was putting on, in the reich minister’s view, had become tiresome.

“I must say that I do not appreciate being hijacked on the way to the Reich Chancellery.”

Himmler smiled and looked toward Speer with a fatherly look. “Such a word-hijacked? I merely asked my men to inquire if you would join me before filing your report on Columbus prior to your presentation to the Fuhrer, just so we could chat awhile. And since so much of the operational success of this project has come from this office, I felt a briefing by you, to me, was not out of the question.”

Speer looked around the spartan office of this prolific mass murderer. He removed his brown saucer cap and placed it under his left arm, all the while feeling uncomfortable in the cold space of his surroundings. His discomfort was also due to his closeness to the chicken farmer-a nickname for Himmler that had caught on among the intellectuals of Hitler’s inner circle, a group that Speer knew was ever dwindling.

“I have ordered the excavation stopped, and for the site to be destroyed immediately, the remains of the artifacts buried,” Speer said, as defiantly and calmly as he could. He watched the practiced reaction of Himmler as the impish little man looked at him with a trace of a smile. “At least until we can negotiate our finds with the Allies. After all, I would rather think the Fuhrer would prefer not to have the artifacts fall into the hands of the Bolsheviks, wouldn’t you?”

“So I have read in your report, Herr Reich Minister,” Himmler said, ignoring his statement about the Red Army. “I wonder if such an action is warranted at this time.”

Speer noticed the comment wasn’t phrased in the form of a question.

“The discovery of the bodies and of the technology came at too late a date. The properties of the ancient weaponry have yet to be unlocked, and coupled with the fact that we were unable to ascertain the age of the bodies I felt it necessary to destroy the site and bury all until we can turn the information we have over to the Americans or the British.”

“I believe that to be a hasty conclusion to the excavation. After all, it has shown very much promise, yes?”

“If we are not careful the Russians will discover what we have failed to properly evaluate, and if that happens the West will be in serious trouble.” Speer saw the twitching of Himmler’s left eye under his wire-rimmed glasses but continued saying his piece. “We have no choice in the matter. In case you are one of the ones holding on to your glorious dreams of a Thousand Year Reich, Herr Himmler, I hate to be the bearer of bad news-the war is lost. It was lost the moment our beloved Fuhrer declared war on Russia while still entangled with the Allies. The problem, as you know, was exacerbated when the United States came to the aid of the Allied cause. I have buried the mine because the technology and the truth of the world’s past will not save our country now.”

“A history lesson?” asked Himmler. “Political ideologies and our current military situation are not subjects I need to be briefed on, Herr Minister.”

“Still, it seems a point worth reminding you of.”

Himmler smiled, trying to bring Speer back into his rightful demeanor of fear and subservience, if only because he needed the reich minister now more than ever. Himmler knew if it hadn’t been for this brilliant architect, Operation Columbus would never have been launched. A partnership had been formed in the early days before the war with the Allies between Speer and himself when the discovery in Ecuador had been made. It was the brilliance of this man that kept Operation Columbus viable right under the Allied noses. Himmler grudgingly respected the man, but like most intellectuals, Speer was weak when the hard truths had to be faced.

“Let’s not quibble. I believe you need to be brought up to date on a few developments that have cropped up here at home since your clandestine trip to South America.” Himmler folded his hands in front of him, trying to speak as clearly as he could. “The Fuhrer has decided to personally conduct the operations concerning the defense of Germany from that monstrosity you designed and built for him below the Reich Chancellery.”

Speer was taken back but tried not to show it. He closed his eyes momentarily and wished he had been sitting, as that would have made hiding his surprise much easier.

“He is going into the bunker?” was all he could say.

“Yes. It seems the Russian army will not allow us to conduct business aboveground these days. Very inconsiderate of them, wouldn’t you say, my dear Albert?”

“Your point, please.”

“My point is that we should not be so hasty in destroying the one element of our research that could be very beneficial to certain members of the Fuhrer’s inner circle. Columbus would be something that either the Americans, British, or in the most dire of circumstance, the Bolsheviks, would trade our lives for, wouldn’t you agree?”

“That could be a possibility. However I see very many problems.”

“Really? I see no such obstacles to our dealing away the one thing that will change all of history as we know it-possibly even the future.”

“One such problem is that during my recent evaluation in South America, I barely escaped with my life. The man that you said should not be a concern to me almost caught me and my men on the beach in Argentina. He was informed of my being in country by that Harvard boy you said wasn’t a threat to our operations in Ecuador. Thus far, Herr Himmler, you have been wrong on every count. And also may I remind you that the country of Ecuador is not one of Germany’s allies. They are fully in the hands of the Americans, and the country is tightly controlled by this American colonel, this Lee-a man chosen personally by William Donovan of the OSS to head operations there.”

“This Colonel Lee will cease to be a problem before we bring out the artifacts. His man in Ecuador, this Hamilton chap-well, we are arranging for that young man to cease being an annoyance. I suspect neither Colonel Lee nor this Hamilton fellow will interfere in the removal of Columbus.” Himmler opened the folder and looked at the last page of Speer’s report. “And I have ordered the last cave formation to be excavated.”

“Why not trade Columbus for our purposes with the artifacts in place? Why take a chance on allowing this very formidable man in South America to have even the slightest chance of discovering just what it is we have? I also believe opening the final cave formation to be a mistake. It will take too much time, and that is a commodity we have very little of.”

“Because if we offer the trade before Columbus is on German soil, the Americans will just take it and then hang us all anyway. This way they have to strike a deal. And the last cave may hold the secret to this trove of technology, wouldn’t you think? Now, perhaps you will step back from the project and let my capable offices handle the final phases.”

Speer placed his cap back onto his black hair and stared at Himmler. The reich minister for armaments saw the small man’s smile twitch once more as he calmly placed the carefully prepared report on Operation Columbus into the wastebasket.

“As I said, you will reap the benefits, as will I, after we trade our fantastic finds for our lives. When the time is right, perhaps when the inevitable becomes a reality, and after the American agent Lee and his apprentice are eliminated, our plans to bring both the technology and other artifacts out of Ecuador will be achieved. The delay will also offer the time we need to break into this last chamber inside the dig.” Himmler looked up in a dismissive way as he slowly and deliberately reached for another report. Then he extended his right hand into the air with his palm facing out. “Heil Hitler! And please, Albert, give the Fuhrer my regards, and tell him that I have been delayed by Party business. Frankly, that bunker smells rather bad to me.”