David Perkins - Hitler's Astrologer

The thought of Adolph Hitler going to a gypsy with a crystal ball had Maxi release a spontaneous chuckle. “Hitler and a crystal ball… ha… good one!”

“Well, London has a solid lead on it, and I hear even Fleming is puzzled over how Jerry is always one step ahead of us. I guess they are looking at every possibility.”

Maxi finished his beer. “ I guess Whitehall knows what they are doing.”

With new and past issues exchanged, his mind returned to his current situation, “Have you seen Bettina? She hasn’t been in or out of the building or at home for several days.”

Although this technically was an intelligence report, Maxi could see there was some emotion behind Otto’s answer of: “No, I haven’t… and it’s not like her to not call or leave a note… she at least lets me know when we can see each other next.”

With the current unraveling of events, both Maxi and Otto were becoming more and more concerned about their mission, and their safety. Each to had to think before every move and every statement made in public. Is that a real threat I’m sensing from that person? Does the person looking at me see something that will betray me? Does something in my behavior betray that I am not a citizen of the Third Reich? No agents have remained in Nazi Germany longer.

Otto walked into the kitchen. Even though their previous thoughts and last discussion was on Bettina, once they were in separate rooms both of their Cambridge educated minds immediately went to Goebbels, Himmler and others of the Nazi state which was their job to track. Was the Third Reich really using the stars and occult to win the war, or find British agents?

Why was it that London, or anyone else, could never pinpoint why the Nazis were having military success after success… and why Fleming’s teams were getting picked up one after another throughout Germany?

Through the large street level windows in the lobby, Krafft saw Fesel’s car pull up. There was another man with him and a driver, both of whom were in uniforms, Kraft walked up as Fesel opened the door.

“Please, come in!”

“Thank-you… Heinrich.” Krafft spoke softly, honoring Fesel’s earlier request to be on a first name basis.

Fesel beamed with pride. In Germany, to be on a first name basis suggested the two men shared a history together and it was Krafft’s history that Fesel wanted – to steal. He was also proud the others in the car noticed this symbol of familiarity, for he had told his entire Dark Fire department how he had met – with the suggestion that he had worked with – the great Karl Krafft in Mannheim years ago. At least for now, this twisting of the facts appeared to be true. His plan was working.

“Herr Krafft, may I introduce you to Captain Strobel and Sergeant Meyer.”

“Guten tag.” Said both of the uniformed men simultaneously. Krafft lowered his head giving a quiet greeting and acknowledgement no one in the car could quite make out.

“Sergeant, please, drive to Lucht’s first.”

“Georg Lucht?” Krafft said, surprised. He hadn’t heard the name in years, and had often wondered if his old friend had been arrested, died, or simply disappeared on his own.

“Yes.” said Fesel, unaware Lucht and Krafft had a history despite the huge personal files and profiles he had at his disposal. “You might be surprised who else we have here in Berlin as well.” Fesel however, did not mention any other names.

They headed east for about 20 minutes into a new area of Berlin Krafft had never seen, or heard of. The car stopped in front of the warehouse where a truck was out front unloading what appeared to be printed materials. Georg Lucht came out of the opened loading bay and walked quickly to the car carrying a light brown briefcase. Fesel opened the car door.

“Come in, come in.” Fesel said happily as if eager for a long awaited party to start. “Georg, may I introduce to you my good friend, Karl Krafft!”

Karl Ernst had mixed feelings. He was overjoyed to see his long time friend, yet was a bit taken at the face of Georg, who appeared to be hiding a great anger. Krafft was also taken aback at how Fesel had said ‘my good friend’ as if they were childhood friends, college roommates, war buddies, and co-workers all rolled into one.

“Hello, Herr Krafft, nice to finally meet you… I have studied much of your work and am very impressed.” Lucht said, as if knowing of Krafft, but never having the chance to meet him personally.

“Guten tag, Herr Lucht, the honor is mine, I have studied much of your work as well.” Krafft’s intuition told him to play along with the charade of these two good friends not knowing one another.

Why did Georg Lucht feel the need act in such a way? Krafft’s mind raced over the possibilities. Krafft then planned for the next chance he and Lucht could speak to one other without Fesel and the Third Reich around.

The car drove for about twenty minutes back to the center of Berlin and finally stopped in front of a huge grey building that appeared at first glance to be an automobile factory. One garage door then suddenly flung open and the driver slowly eased the black Mercedes inside.

“Gentlemen,” Fesel announced, “Welcome to project Dark Fire! My contribution to the war effort of the Third Reich!”

Baron Harals Keun Hoogerwoerd did not look up as Ludwig von Wohl entered the room. He appeared completely different than when von Wohl had seen him at the party the week before. Instead of the elegant tux with all the official ribbons and medals of Dutch royalty, here was a man in an extremely worn, grey turtleneck sweater and black casual slacks. The Baron better resembled one of the many poor university students than the few wealthy aristocrats still left in Europe.

Even thought Ludwig had an appointment, the Baron continued reading while making notes and still did not look up for over two minutes – but von Wohl knew exactly how to handle royalty when it appeared they were playing the psychological ‘you wait for me’ game.

“Perhaps I’m a bit early, shall I come back at a later time… or would it be best to wait outside?”

Baron von Hoogerwoerd looked up. “Oh, forgive me, I was all wrapped up in your horoscope… I didn’t notice the bell… did Gert let you in?” The Baron looked at the clock on the wall, while lifting himself out of the chair. “My goodness, it is five already! Would you like some coffee, tea, or perhaps a bit of something to start the evening off with?

“If you mean a drink, I’d love one.” Said von Wohl, relieved the Baron now acted with the same politeness and openness as he did when they met at the Holland Ball.

“G-e-r-t?” The Baron called out, stretching the name so it took three full seconds to say.

“Y-e-s?” Echoed an answer from down the hall with the same intonation.

D-r-i-n-k-s (pause) P-l-e-a-s-e.” Von Wohl could see that the Baron was imitating his servant’s speech pattern, not in a way that was condescending, but rather in an attempt to simply better communicate.

“Y-e-s (pause) S-i-r.” Gert replied in perfect rhythm.

The Baron looked von Wohl, then at the open door to the hallway, back to von Wohl and smiled.

“A nice man, really – got one in the head during the first war. His family have been taking care of the house and garden for six generations.”

Ludwig shook his head understandably.

“Now,” the Baron said in a voice a voice that meant a change of subject and on to business, “let’s get on with why you are here… please, have a seat.”