Alpha Threat (23 page)

In Captivity Somewhere in the Amazon;
 
8:00 a.m.

It was three days since their capture.
  
Dana, Randall and Manolo were separated and each thrown into a dank, dark cell that smelled of mold and human waste.
 
The only light was from a tiny air vent about eight feet above the gray steel door set deep into heavy stone.
 
The light was consistent so Randall figured it was not illuminated from outdoors.
 
The light had to be coming from a hall or other room outside the cell.
 

Each of their cells was identical.
 
There was a large five-gallon bucket of nasty smelling drinking water with a small metal cup.
 
Twice a day a packet of food was thrust through an eight-by-eight inch hatch in the wall near the door.
  
The toilet was two twelve-inch long by ten-inch tall stone protrusions on the floor on opposite sides of a dark, foul smelling four-inch hole in the floor against the wall.
 
This was not a nice place by anyone’s imagination.
 
The bed consisted of a small amount of hay thrown in the far corner of the eight-by-six foot cell and a very dirty, rough canvas blanket.
 
To any normal person this was Hell.

When they took off his hood, Randall was thrust into his cell without any communication as to where or why.
 
No one visited or talked to him during the three days that passed.
 
He spent time yelling trying to get someone to answer but to no avail.
 
He seemed to be in this hellhole by himself.
 
He had no word of Dana or Manolo.
 
They could be dead for all he knew.
 
All he could hear was heavy footsteps several times a day.
 
When he tried to communicate, there was no reply.

Randall had no idea what time it was or what day for that matter.
 
All he could see in the cell was the four stone walls and the poured concrete floor and ceiling.
 
He knew this was a man-made cell and not a cave.
 
The concrete floor was the giveaway.
 
 
The walls were made of various shaped large stones instead of the most common material, brick. The musty smell permeated the cell because of seeping moisture.
 
But the walls were dry.
 
Randall figured they were underground, quite possibly deep underground.
 

The only wet areas were near the water bucket and toilet, which had an awful stench.
 
There must be more cells or rooms because he could tell that the latrine system dumped into a sewer system several feet below the opening in the floor.
 
When he relieved himself, he could hear his stream going down and hitting a shallow body of water.
 
A toilet for one cell would not have been built so intricately.
 
He also noticed that periodically there was a distinct sewage flow from other cells or areas.
 
How many, he could not guess.
 
But he knew there must be other cells down here.
 

Dana and Manolo must be somewhere nearby although he could not hear or contact them.
 
To calm himself he had to believe they were still alive.
 
He wondered to himself…
 
Who put him here?
 
What did they want?
 
Why weren’t they killed like the others?
 
Hundreds of questions blazed through his mind as he sat there…alone.
 

In another cell on the other side of the jail complex Dana was sobbing deeply.
 
She’d hardly stopped crying since they threw her in the cell.
 
She too was left alone in near darkness, her surroundings similar to Randall’s.
 
She had not seen nor heard from him since they were trekked through the jungle and brought into this place three days ago.
 
Her screams and protestations were unanswered and she was beginning to feel she was the only one alive.
 
She was scared she would die in this hellhole.
 
Thousands of thoughts raced through her mind.
 
What was happening?
 
Are they,
whoever they are
, going to rape me? Or worse, kill me?
 
Although she tried to think of better times her mind circled back to the present.
 
She wondered how Anne Frank survived her ordeal when she was forced to hide from the Germans in World War II.
 

The trio had been force marched for several hours after their capture.
 
The men dressed in black were under orders not to talk to them and under no circumstances take the heavy hoods off of their heads.
  
They went down open trails and slogged through a muddy swamp-like area but were unable to ascertain where or even which direction they had taken.
 

After several hours, they were brought to some sort of an opening or cavern and taken several levels below ground.
 
It felt cool to the skin like there was air conditioning.
 
They were taken deep into some sort of complex to separate cells where their handcuffs and hoods were removed.
 
There was no air conditioning here.
 
It was hot and smelled terribly.
 
They were supervised by a pair of huge guards.
 
In Dana’s case the guards had watched a bit more intently.
 
It had been a while since they had seen a woman captive.
 

“What are we to do with these intruders?” asked Jorgen Maas, captain of the guards, to the tall, svelte female dressed in a crisp German military uniform.
 

“What do we know about them?
 
I need to find out who they are and why they are here,” answered Kaete Grimme.
 

“They did not have much on them when we picked them up,” Maas answered stoically.
 
“We did get their gear that was left behind.
 
It looks as though they were on some kind of educational expedition from the United States.
 
They are probably well funded.
 
Their gear looks new and top rate.”

“How far out did we catch them?” Grimme asked.
 

“They found one of our vent markers about two kilometers from entrance 22-A.
 
They did not stumble across anything else.
 
The one thing that bothers me is they had an active GPS and a radio.”

Grimme’s eyes locked on Maas.
 
She pursed her lips and cursed under her breath.
  
She didn’t like the idea of a GPS unit and radio.
 
“This could cause a major problem,” she hissed.
 
“Somebody out there may know the location of these missing people.
 
I assume you have your guards on alert.”

“We have doubled the guards and set out several additional monitors throughout the area where they were picked up,” answered Maas.
 
“If anyone comes after them, we will know about it.”

“Excellent.
 
As you are aware, we cannot suffer a single security breach.
 
We cannot afford to have a search party roaming through the area looking for these people.
 
If we need to, massacre any group that gets close to the compound.
 
Slaughter everyone and make certain it looks like a native attack,” ordered Grimme.
 

“I understand.
 
We will be safe and thorough,” answered Maas.
 
“Should we kill this bunch and get rid of them?”

Grimme narrowed her eyes thinking.
 
“No, not yet.
 
I want more information from them before we kill them.”

Maas smiled.
 
“I can make them talk, I assure you. “

“I’m certain you can,” she said matter-of-factly looking at Maas.
 
“But I want to do this my way.
 
It is important they stay separated for the time being,” she said.
 
“I want to build their desperation.
 
They have been isolated in their cells for three days.
 
 
It is time to add some physical pain increasing their despair.
 
Take two of your men and punish each of them.
 
Without any communication beat them and leave them in pain.
 
I want them hurt badly but not in any danger of dying.
 
Do you understand me, Maas?
 
Hurt them but be certain they are profoundly hurt.
 
I want them to be scared out of their wits and ready to talk when the time comes.”

“Yes, I understand.
 
I will attend to it personally,” Maas answered as he turned to carry out Grimme’s orders.
 
These were orders a sadist such as Maas loved to hear.
 
His mind raced at what he could do to these people.
 
One thing Maas was exceedingly good at was causing physical pain in others.
 

Kaete Grimme commanded Fortress Alpha deep in the Amazon jungle.
 
She was the Führer.
 
Her grandfather, Gestapo Agent Karl Grimme, was one of the handpicked operatives Hitler himself chose to establish this operation in the Amazon.
 
She was as chilling and ruthless as her grandfather and father, Hientz Grimme, from whom she took over at his death four years ago.
  
Standing at nearly six feet, thirty-five-year-old Kaete was a strong woman singly bred by her father to make hard and ruthless choices.
 
Her short blonde hair was always perfectly set, always very formal.
 
She let down her guard to no one.
 
The reality was she was more ruthless than any of her predecessors.
 
She was in many ways pure evil.
 
It took a strong will to maintain the future of the Fourth Reich and see their plans of world domination flourish.
 

Near the end of the Second World War, Hitler ordered Heinrich Himmler to establish a fortress in South America to house Germany’s most closely guarded secrets.
 
Only a handful of the highest ranking Germans and highly trusted scientists and technicians knew of the operation.
 
Many of the people and soldiers involved were murdered when there was no use for them.
 
It was Hitler’s first step to rebuilding the Third Reich, which was crumbling around him thanks to the encroaching Red army and the Americans who were outside of Berlin.
 
The plan was to move all secrets and those responsible for the secrets to a stronghold in Brazil.
 
This site would become a base for reviving the Reich and provide a safe place for Hitler, Himmler and their inner circle to survive the inevitable downfall of Germany.
 
They had moved tons of gold and other valuables as well as several key scientists who worked on their sinister projects back in the 1940s.
 
Each scientist was given everything they needed to fulfill their experimental needs.
 
For some that included money and specialized equipment.
 
For others it included people, guinea pigs for experimentation.
 
All was furnished by Grimme’s Fortress.
 

The complex was huge.
 
It had taken almost forty years to fully construct.
 
Loosely based on the Nazi structures built in Germany, everything had been brought into the jungle, all building supplies as well as workers.
 
That was no easy task without leaving a huge trail right to the complex.
 
So work was done slowly and meticulously to ensure secrecy.
 
The result was a near state-of-the-art scientific complex spanning several acres but wholly underground, hidden from all view.
 

The deepest basements were ten stories below the level of the jungle floor.
 
Housing over 350 carefully selected and trained personnel, the present personnel included the children and grandchildren of the original group brought over from Germany before war’s end.
 
They were augmented by highly trained, dedicated Germans handpicked for their knowledge and skills.
 
Each was trained explicitly in their crafts, from cooks to nuclear scientists.
 
They only knew this place, this life.
 
Only a very few trusted personnel ever left the fortress and then only for very specific reasons.
 
They usually returned within days.
 
All of the inhabitants were fanatically dedicated to the rise of the Fourth Reich, a new Germany deep within Brazil’s jungles.
 

The most important of the Nazi’s secrets were housed here.
 
Brought over from the Third Reich, these confidences were the engine that kept this society going and growing.
 
The initial caches of gold were brought over from Europe in 1945.
 
That cache had financed their work until now.
 
Now that treasure was added to the gold being produced now.
 
Produced
, not mined.
 
Gold was produced by a process that would provide this society with inexhaustible power.