Black Order (30 page)

From the front seat, Gunther swore under his breath. The bird refused to climb into the thin air, not without top rotor speed.

00:03

They’d never make it.

Painter reached for Lisa’s hand.

He gripped it tightly—then suddenly the world lifted and crashed back down. A distant hollow boom sounded. They all held their breath, ready to be blasted off the mountain. But nothing else happened. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Then the cornice upon which they were perched broke away. The A-Star tilted down nose first. Rotors churned uselessly overhead. The entire snowy slope slipped in one sheet, sliding away, as if shrugged off the mountain, taking the helicopter with it.

They were headed for the cliff’s edge. Snow tumbled over it in a churning torrent.

The ground bumped again…another explosion…

The helo bucked but refused to get airborne.

Gunther wrestled with the controls, choking the throttle.

The cliff rushed toward them. The snow could be heard beyond the roar of the helicopter, growling like Class V rapids.

Lisa pressed against Painter’s side, her hand white-knuckled around his fingers. On her other side, Anna sat ramrod straight, face blank, eyes fixed forward.

In front, Gunther went deathly silent as they were carried over the cliff.

Shoved off the edge, they tipped sideways, snow falling away under them, behind them. Dropping fast, the craft jittered, yawing back and forth. Cliffs of rock rose in all directions.

No one made a sound. The rotors screamed for all of them.

Then just like that, the craft found air. With no more jolt than an elevator coming to a stop, the A-star steadied. Gunther grunted at the controls…slowly, slowly, spiraling the craft upward.

Ahead, the last of the avalanche tumbled over the cliff face.

The helo climbed enough to survey the damage to the castle. Smoke choked out all the façade’s windows. The front doors had been blown off. Over the shoulder of the mountain, a thick black column rose into the sky, coming from the helipad on the far side.

Anna sagged, palms on the side window. “Almost a hundred and fifty men and women.”

“Maybe some got out,” Lisa said dully, unblinking.

They spotted no movement.

Only smoke.

Anna pointed toward the castle.
“Wir sollten suchen—”

But there would be no search, no rescue.

Ever.

A blinding white flash, like a crack of lightning, blazed from all the windows. Beyond the shoulder, a sodium-arc sunrise. No noise. Like heat lightning. It burned into the retina, shutting off all sight.

Blinded, Painter felt the helo lurch up as Gunther yanked on the collective. A noise intruded, a vast grating rumble of rock. Impossibly loud. Not just an avalanche. It sounded tectonic, a grinding of continental plates.

The helo trembled in the air, a fly in a paint shaker.

Sight returned painfully.

Painter pressed against the window and stared below.

“My God…,” he uttered in awe.

Rock dust obscured most of the view, but it could not hide the scope of the destruction. The entire side of the mountain had buckled in on itself. The shoulder of granite that had overhung the castle had collapsed, as if all beneath it—the castle and a good section of mountain—had simply vanished.

“Unmöglich,”
Anna mumbled, stunned.

“What?”

“Such annihilation…it had to be a ZPE bomb.” Her eyes had gone glassy.

Painter waited for her to explain.

She did after another shuddering breath. “ZPE. Zero point energy. Einstein’s formulas led to the first nuclear bomb, tapping into the energies of a few uranium atoms. But that’s nothing compared to the potential power hidden within Planck’s quantum theories. Such bombs would tap into the very energies birthed during the big bang.”

Silence settled throughout the cabin.

Anna shook her head. “Experiments with the fuel source for the Bell—the Xerum 525—hinted at the possible use of zero point energy as a weapon. But we never pursued that avenue with any real intent.”

“But somebody else did,” Painter said. He pictured the dead, ice blond assassin.

Anna turned to Painter, her face etched with horror and utter violation. “We have to stop them.”

“But who? Who are they?”

Lisa stirred. “I think we may find out.” She pointed out the starboard side.

Over the edge of a neighboring peak, a trio of helicopters appeared, camouflaged in white against the glaciered peaks. They spread out and swept toward the lone A-Star.

Painter knew enough of aerial combat to recognize the pattern.

Attack formation.

9:32
A.M
.
WEWELSBURG, GERMANY

“The North Tower is this way,” Dr. Ulmstrom said.

The museum director led Gray, Monk, and Fiona out the back of the main hall. Ryan had left a moment earlier with a slim woman dressed in tweed, a museum archivist. They were off to make copies of Hugo Hirszfeld’s letter and anything else pertaining to his great-grandfather’s research. Gray sensed he was close to discerning some answers, but he needed more information.

To that end, he had agreed to the director’s personal tour of Himmler’s castle. It was here where Hugo had begun his connection with the Nazis. Gray sensed that to move forward he would need as much background as possible—and who better to supply that information than the museum curator?

“To truly understand the Nazis,” Ulmstrom said, leading the way, “you have to stop considering them as a political party. They called themselves Nationalsozialistische Deutsche Arbeiterpartei—the National Socialist German Workers’ Party—but in reality, they were really a cult.”

“A cult?” Gray asked.

“They bore all the trappings,
ja
? A spiritual leader who could not be questioned, disciples who wore matching clothes, rituals and blood oaths performed in secret, and most important of all, the creation of a potent totem to worship. The
Hakenkreuz
. The Broken Cross, also called the swastika. A symbol to supplant the crucifix and the Star of David.”

“Hari krishnas on steroids,” Monk mumbled.

“Do not joke. The Nazis understood the inherent power of ideas. A power greater than any gun or rocket. They used it to subjugate and brainwash an entire nation.”

Lightning cracked, brightening the hall behind them. Thunder followed on its heels, booming, felt in the gut. The lights flickered.

They all stopped in the hall.

“One squeaking bat,” Monk whispered. “Even a small one…”

The lights flared brighter, then steadied. They continued onward. The short hall ended at a barred glass door. A larger room lay beyond.

“The
Obergruppenführersaal.
” Ulmstrom pulled out a weighty set of keys and unlocked the door. “The inner sanctum to the castle. This is restricted from regular visitors, but I think you might appreciate it.”

He held the door for them to enter.

They trailed inside. Rain pelted against the ring of windows that surrounded the circular chamber.

“Himmler built this room to mirror King Arthur’s in Camelot. He even had a massive oaken round table placed in the middle of the room and gathered his twelve leading officers of his Black Order for meetings and rituals here.”

“What’s this Black Order?” Monk asked.

“It was another name for Himmler’s SS. But more accurately, the
Schwarze Auftrag
—the Black Order—was a name given to Himmler’s inner circle, a secret cabal that traced its roots back to the occult Thule Society.”

Gray’s attention focused. The Thule Society again. Himmler was a member of the group, so was Ryan’s great-grandfather. He pondered the connection. An inner cabal of occultists and scientists who believed that a master race once ruled the world—and would again.

The director continued his tour. “Himmler believed this room and its tower to be the spiritual and geographic center of the new Aryan world.”

“Why here?” Gray asked.

Ulmstrom shrugged and walked to the middle of the room. “This region is where the Teutons defeated the Romans, a pivotal battle in Germanic history.”

Gray had heard a similar story from Ryan’s father.

“But the reasons may be multiple. Legends are ripe here. Nearby stands an old Stonehenge-like set of prehistoric monoliths, called Externsteine. Some claim the roots of the Norse World Tree, Yggdrasil, lie below it. And then, of course, there were the witches.”

“The ones killed here,” Gray said.

“Himmler believed, and perhaps rightly so, that the women were slain because they were pagans, practicing Nordic rites and rituals. In his eyes, the fact that their blood was spilt at this castle only succeeded in consecrating these grounds.”

“So then it’s like the real estate agents say,” Monk mumbled. “It’s all about location, location, location.”

Ulmstrom frowned but continued. “Whatever the reason, here is the ultimate purpose of Wewelsburg.” He pointed down to the floor.

In the gloom, a pattern had been done in dark green tiles against a white background. It looked like a sun, radiating twelve lightning bolts.

“The
Schwarze Sonne
. The Black Sun.” Ulmstrom stalked around its circumference. “This symbol also has roots in many myths. But to the Nazis it represented the land from which the All-Father descended. A land that went by many names. Thule, Hyperborea, Agartha. Ultimately the symbol represents the sun under which the Aryan race would be reborn.”

“Returning again to the All-Father,” Gray said, picturing the
Mensch
rune.

“That was the ultimate goal of the Nazis…or at least for Himmler and his Black Order. To advance the German people back to their godlike status. It was why Himmler chose this symbol to represent his Black Order.”

Gray began to sense what research Hugo might have been involved with. A biologist with roots at Wewelsburg. Could he have been involved with a twisted form of the
Lebensborn
project, some type of eugenics program? But why would people kill over such a program today? What had Hugo discovered that he felt needed to be kept so secret, burying it in code in his family’s books?

Gray remembered Ryan’s recitation of his great-grandfather’s letter to his daughter, shortly before his death. He hinted at a secret that was
too beautiful to let die and too monstrous to set free
. What had he discovered? What had he wanted kept secret from his Nazi superiors?

Lightning crackled again, shining through all the windows. The symbol of the Black Sun shone brilliantly. Electric lights trembled as the thunder reverberated throughout the hilltop castle. Not the best place to be in an electrical storm.

Confirming this, the lights flared again—then went dark.

Blackout.

Still, enough murky illumination came through the windows to see.

Voices shouted in the distance.

A loud clang rang out closer at hand.

All eyes turned.

The door to the chamber had slammed closed. Gray reached for the butt of his gun, holstered under his sweater.

“Security lockdown,” Ulmstrom assured them. “Nothing to fear. Backup generators should—”

Lights flickered, then ignited again.

Ulmstrom nodded. “Ah, there we go.
Es tut mir leid,
” he apologized. “This way.”

He led them back through the security door, but rather than heading toward the main hall, he aimed for a set of stairs to the side. Apparently the tour was not over.

“I think you might find this next chamber of particular interest as you’ll see the
Mensch
rune from the Bible depicted there.”

Footsteps approached down the hall, coming fast.

Gray turned, realizing his hand still rested on his gun. But there was no need to unholster it. Ryan hurried toward them, a stuffed manila envelope clutched in his hand.

He joined them, slightly out of breath. His eyes darted a bit, plainly spooked by the brief blackout.
“Ich glaube…”
He cleared his throat. “I have all the paperwork, including the letter to my great-aunt Tola.”

Monk took the envelope. “Now we can get our butts out of here.”

Maybe they should. Gray glanced to Dr. Ulmstrom. He stood at the head of stairs leading down.

The curator stepped toward them. “If you’re in a hurry…”

“No,
bitte
. What were you saying about the
Mensch
rune?” It would be foolish to leave without exploring this fully.

Ulmstrom lifted an arm and motioned toward the stairs. “Below lies the only chamber in the entire castle where the
Mensch
rune can be found. Of course, the rune’s presence only makes sense considering…”

“Considering what?”

Ulmstrom sighed, checked his watch. “Come. I’ll have to make this quick anyway.” He turned and strode to the staircase and headed down.