The Chair (11 page)

 He walked back slowly and we both went in and shut the door. I placed my finger to my lips signaling for him to be silent and pointed to his desk. He sat back down looking at me intently, probably wondering if I would actually use it. I looked over at Ara and nodded. She looked at him and said in a stern voice. “Gratten!  Professor Timothy Gratten?”

He looked back at us with a blank stare and shook his head as if he didn’t understand. That’s when I stood up pulling the hammer back on my pistol, walked over to the desk pointing it at him and raised my voice. “Gratten, Professor Timothy Gratten!”

He looked down at his desk and I could see he wanted a cigarette. I obliged him with a quick nod;  then he pulled one from the pack and lit it up.

After taking a long drag on his cigarette and exhaling the smoke he looked at us both and spoke in a low voice, “I assume you’re both looking for Professor Timothy Gratten.”

We looked at each other caught off guard by his use of English..

“Yes, I speak fluent English. What is your interest in Professor Gratten?

“That is
my
business. Right now I want to talk with him.”

“This is totally forbidden by strict orders from the Führer; but since at this moment you obviously have the upper hand, I suppose I have no choice, true?” As he was talking I could see his hand was slowly slipping down under the desktop.

“Stop, stand up,” I ordered.

He stood up as I walked over to the desk and opened the top drawer, where there was a loaded German pistol conveniently laying at his disposal.

“I’ll just take this if you don’t mind. Now where are you keeping the professor?”

He rubbed his chin raising his eyebrows. “You can’t blame me for trying now can you?–follow me.” He took a key ring from his pocket and opened a door leading further into the warehouse. It was a long dimly lit hallway and we proceeded toward a set of double doors at the end.

Upon entering a much larger room the concoction of odors was hard to distinguish. Definitely a mixture of engine oil, solvents and exhaust; something similar to the way my father’s workshop used to smell whenever I would visit him. We passed several large objects covered over in old canvass, along with portable workbenches on wheels, each loaded with a plethora of tools of every imaginable type. Some of the equipment looked new and innovative but still indistinguishable in the low lit conditions. We passed through another huge warehouse space and many workbenches were scattered around with oddly shaped projects covered in the same canvass. Over at the far side of the space, were two or three workbenches lit up with someone at each of them busily working on some sort of endeavor.

The sparks of a grinder were jumping into the air, lighting up one of the workbenches and at another, a man in a white lab coat was kneeling down looking up through a huge metal contraption too far away for us to really see any details.

“Professor Gratten has finished for the day and probably retired to his quarters by now, that is, unless he happens to be in the refectory, a little further down past his sleeping quarters.”

 We kept pace through another large workspace and continued along a smaller hallway with several doors on either side finally stopping at one of them. “I believe this is the one.” He said looking at me for further instructions.

“Ara, wait for me here I’ll be right back.” Taking hold of him I ordered. “You come with me.”

CHAPTER

FIFTEEN

I
t was getting rather late as I walked the German further down the hallway to a smaller door with a tiny square window.  Opening the door, I looked into a rather large dark storage room where there was one single light bulb hanging from the ceiling with a pull string, which I used for the moment. I grabbed him roughly, shoving him inside.

 “They will know that I am missing and send someone out looking for me. It’s no use to try and escape; this is a secured area and you will most certainly be found!”

“Enough talk, stay still,” I ordered, as I sat him down in the chair. I gagged him, tied him up securely with what looked like old clothesline, and flicked the light off leaving him there. Then as I headed back down the hallway, Ara was still standing there by the door waiting for me and looking very anxious. “Richard I, I’m actually afraid to knock on the door. I’m afraid it’s not going to be him.”

I took her in my arms holding her close, and then looked into her eyes. “Hey, we’ve come this far and it looks like it is going to pay off. Your father’s been missing all this time, he has to be somewhere.”

She looked up at me biting her lip, her blond hair brushing up against my face as she turned and knocked on the door. There was no response at first then a muffled voice emanated from what sounded like the back of the room. “What is it? My work shift is over for the day.”

“Father, is that you in there?”

“What? It can’t be. Is that you –my Ara?”

The door slowly opened and an older man with glasses and a graying beard peered out, his face suddenly lighting up. “It is, it is you Ara!  How could this be? How on earth were you able to find me?”

They both embraced in an emotional moment, tears streaming down Ara’s face as her father held her in his arms. To give them a moment, I walked down the hall to check on the German once again and look around for anyone else approaching. All seemed quiet at this point, being at a very late hour. We, all three of us went back in his room where we would be out of sight from anyone happening to pass through.

“Father, how did you ever get to Germany? The last I knew you were in London and when you didn’t come back I―”

“I know honey, I never returned; but believe me I had no choice in the matter. I was in London working at my employment that day, just as usual. We were working on a project that had been ongoing for months and deep into it, when two men approached me saying they had a proposition for me and would I be interested in discussing it over dinner.” I held Ara close as her father continued his story.

“They appeared reasonable at first. I told my companion workers that I was going to dinner with the two men but that I wouldn’t be long. They mentioned they had a place in mind and before I knew it I was hustled into a car which drove off toward the docks.

They told me that their Führer had need of my services. They said they had heard of my intimate familiarity in the field of electro- magnetics as well as my knowledge of fuel aerodynamics acoustics and basic combustion.

“I told them I was sorry if I had mislead them into thinking I would be interested in looking for alternative employment, but that I was very busy with a project at the moment and I would let them know if and when the situation had changed.

They, being insistent, were obviously not interested in my explanation and told me in no uncertain terms I would have to go with them.

“They further informed me there were others I would work with on a project of much more significance and challenge for me as well as an honor for me working for the fatherland.

We drove to the Port of London ending up on one of the more obscure docks where a German supply ship was berthed alongside. It was dark with only bright light on the ship itself as the motorcar pulled up close to the ship.

“I was taken up the gangway and put on the ship which after a short trip took me to Belgium. From there, through Luxemburg and finally brought here to Munich. I was assigned to a war machine of unbelievable implication and consequence for the power of Germany.

“But enough of my plight; how in the world did you ever find out that I was here?”

We both sat down and began to explain everything that had led up to us being there. Her father was astonished that all of our paths had crossed in such a strange and extraordinary way.

“Something is brewing here in Germany with this new Chancellor, Heir Hitler, now called their Führer and I’m afraid of what it will all mean for the world.

 “There is something about this man that is utterly irresistible to these people–he is a god to them, boasting of Germany rising out of the ashes as a phoenix being the master race and some such rubbish. I tell you war is going to break out one of these days soon, a war to end all wars.”

“Father, have they been treating you well?”

“Yes, their treatment has been fine but they are certainly slave drivers and not prone to linger around ideas very long; they want results quickly and the project they have me on, along with the others, is something out of a nightmare!”

As I was listening intently to what he was saying, it certainly began to raise the bloody hair on the back of my neck and I’m not one to quickly panic. “We have to get you out of here Professor and soon. What
is
this project you have been working on?”

 He sat back with a disgusting look on his face. “It is of utmost secrecy and one of their Führer’s pet projects. Words cannot describe it… you must see this, this machine, which is only one of many monstrous killing mechanisms they have us all laboring on. Do you know what has become of Anders?

“We don’t know what they’ve done with him or if he has broken and told them where it is.”

“You two need to get back there immediately and acquire the chair as quickly as possible! It would most certainly be the key to their success or failure with these monstrous war machines. If they get their hands on it there is no telling how far it would take them!”

 “It won’t be easy father; they’re looking for us now as we speak.”

“There is a way back to Hitler’s apartment headquarters without being seen; a little known post war abandon sewer I discovered that leads directly under the complex and you can gain access to the building through one of the outlets there– but you would need to be extremely careful, there are patrols scattered all around.”

Ara looked at her father with tears and hugged him again. “I don’t want to leave you here father; you need to come with us!”

“Ara, no. If they discovered I was missing, they would launch an all out manhunt for me which could endanger any hopes we might have of stopping them. It is of necessity that we wait till the time is right. Now you two must go and find the chair as soon as you can. We will have to say good by for now.”

Ara hugged her father one last time and he gave us directions to the entrance of the underground tunnels. We would enter them in an opening located at the side of the building, but we had to be extremely careful in avoiding any patrols. We worked our way to the far side of the warehouse, slipping past two of them playing cards, then out a side exit door. I looked around the dimly lit fenced yard but saw nothing that looked like the sewer entrance. The professor said it would be close by the exit but I wondered if they might have closed up the old entrance without the professor’s knowledge.

Then I noticed a stack of empty crates surrounded by four old cement bollards. Looking in both directions, we and carefully made our way to the crates and quietly began moving some of them out of the way. Two SS guards, undoubtedly making rounds, walked by smoking cigarettes, conversing in German and we waited till they passed, then resumed moving the crates.

I was just about ready to give up when happened to spot it half covered with growth; an aged rusted metal cover plate in the cement with some old looking letters stamped in it. This had bloody well be it I thought. Getting a grip on the cover we both slowly lifted it up revealing a dark musty metal rung ladder leading down to the cement passageways below, once used as a culvert for drainage. I went down first and Ara followed. It was bone dry and easy enough climbing down to the bottom. We peered down the length of the passageway which was quite long till it turned in another direction.

I quickly climbed back up and replaced the metal cover over the entrance then we both turned on our flashlights and began our underground trek to the apartment complex. The tunnel was smaller at first then connecting into a larger one which allowed us to stand. We made our way in the direction he had indicated to us. Thin shafts of light scattered here and there were beaming down from the city streets twenty feet above us, spotlighting the floors of the tunnels. Old rusted metal rung ladders leading up above were spread out all along the tunnels. Examining one of them with the flashlight, we noticed a street number on the ladder; further down another with a succeeding number.

I summed it up. “These must correspond with the old addresses above that were either still there or changed over time the tunnels were used.”

From there on out we began carefully checking each ladder we came across until finally coming across the label 41 TH. This had to be directly under Thierschstrasse 41, but where it led exactly was still unclear. We both decided that I should go up first and find out the precise location in the apartment the ladder would take us.

CHAPTER

SIXTEEN

C
arefully and quietly I climbed the metal ladder which rose about twenty feet to the opening. Light was seeping out around the diameter of the cover but the location was yet to be distinguishable.

I had reached the top and extended my arm pushing against the cover plate which wouldn’t budge. It was then I began feeling vulnerable with an unsure feeling in continuing on; nevertheless we had to keep moving and find the chair. Climbing further up, I lowered my head and put my shoulder against the cover plate, gradually jarring it enough to shift it out of its obstinate resting place. One edge of it finally flipped up on the surface of the floor and I pushed harder to move it back from the opening. It was still dark and I stuck my head up to look around. The ladder had led me to the outside of the building. I climbed out to take a look around. A low fence surrounded the opening and it was definitely behind and outside of a building.