The Division of the Damned (10 page)

"Fine with me, Herr Doctor.
Just make sure the men are sorted out
with somewhere comfortable before you talk deals with the
c
ount
.”

"Of cours
e, Herr Standartenführer.
I’ll
—
" but he was talking to his back. Von Struck had turned to the men and given the order to fall out. They dropped their packs and lingered in a squad, uneasily.

"Damn peasant,
” Rasch muttered. He hesitated before lifting the giant knocker and letting it fall. Rasch physically jumped as it crashed down. The whole squad stood in uneasy silence. Not a man moved. The door opened with a shriek that spiked their concern to the point of alarm.

Rasch stepped up to the door and took a step back as Marik came into view.
His wasted, derelict features and the repugnance of his body odour at first repulsed Rasch, until his natural arrogance took over as he looked down and analysed the manservant.

First impressions meant everything to Rasch and he routinely attempted to racially identify a person on introduction. The manservant’s aura of corruption relegated him (in Rasch’s fussy and pseudo-scientific mind), to the lower echelons of m
ankind.
Above the Jews and Gypsies
, but doubtless below the Serbs; probably of Slavic origin.

"We’re here to meet with the
c
ount
—
Count Blestamatul.” He blinked and pushed his tiny glasses up on his nose.

"
Count Vlad Dracyl Blestamatul
…
” Marik told hi
m in heavily accented German
, ”
… is aware that you are here and he ordered me to show you in." He pointed to the stables to the left of the building
.
"Your men can sleep in there.”

"Good, that seems in order. Standartenführer, will you take the men to their accommodation
?
I’ll see to our rooms.” Without waiting for a reply, Rasch walked into the castle.

"What an arsehole," Muntner muttered.

*  *  *

Von Struck walked to the stables with the men. It was a long building with a dividing wall in the middle. The few horses that it held were kept in the adjoining room to where the men would sleep. There was no straw but an abundance of abandoned horse blankets which the men took over as bedding.

They cleared an area and lit a fire in the middle of the building. The stalls were clean and the blankets had hardly any lice. Compared to Russia, it was almost paradise.

"Aren’t you off to see to your room, Herr Standartenführer?" sniggered Muschinski.

"If you’re not careful, Muschinski, you’ll be sleeping in the good
d
octor’s room with him!” Von Struck replied.

"Probably in his bed!” roared Henning. They laughed loudly and without restraint. The all-pervading sense of malevolence had lifted with Rasch’s departure and, alone in this their inner circle, they were at ease with one another and their situation.

“It see
ms you don’t think much of the d
octor,” said the young Andreas Schneiderat, and muttered to
himself
, "I know I don’t
.
” The room chuckled at the quip and settled down to sorting the bedding out.

"It’s not that I don’t like him, Andreas. I don’t like all that he stands for. I don’t like a lot of things that Germany now stands for, to tell you all the truth.” He looked up from what he was doing. "But we must soldier on, despite what’s happening back home, for the sake of our families. Ivan wants to do to us what we’ve been doing to him and his people for the last three years. I just pray it doesn’t get that far.”

All eyes were on him now, wide with cognizance and worry. He, an officer, had said aloud what they had all secretly (and some not so secretly) talked about since the war in the East had taken a turn for the worse.
The Russian Army in Germany.
Nothing on this earth could compare to the horror of that gathering storm on the horizon. The black clouds of vengeance hung heavily over their loved ones, and all they could do to keep them at bay was fight on. The silence of desperate contemplation stopped all movement.

"My God, you’re a laugh a minute, you know that?" Rohleder had sensed the mood and he didn’t like it
.
"Russians in Germany, it’s like saying Americans on the moon! It’s not going to happen, so let’s make our beds and break out the Schnapps, eh, lads?"

The men all smiled but the strain was still apparent.

"We’ll get Henning drunk and make him sing, and then you can be miserable!” This time they really laughed and the sombr
e moment was gone, for the time
being.

Von Struck sorted himself a bed out and left the men to get some sleep. No sentries, an almost unheard of luxury for the last three years, and a couple of bottles of Ukrainian vodka that Henning and Von Struck had brought with them, would ensure a good night’s sleep for the squad. Von Struck strolled up to the main door.

*  *  *

Rasch waited with growing impatience for the
c
ount
to show. He was horrified by the filth of the hall and now waited alone in a room next to the library. It was a study of sorts, a very dusty study. The degradation of the décor and the furniture
confirmed everything to Rasch
—
that he was dealing with a race far removed from the Aryan ideal at the top of his list. That he should have to stoop so low, even worse, that Germany should have to stoop so low, was a tragedy.

The
c
ount
walked in. He threw the doors of the study open with a crash that startled Rasch and brought down a shower of dust and old plaster from the ceiling.

"Guten
Abend
, Herr Doctor, or should I say Guten Morgen,” he announced. "Have you brought what I need?”

No introduction, no social niceties, no beating around
the bush. Rasch was thrown off
guard by the
c
ount
’s direct and predatory manner, and felt like a rabbit caught in a spotlight’s glare. He had expected old-world manners, not high handed, barefaced demands.

Rasch
stuttered to answer
.
"I have, Y
our Excellency." He pushed his glasses up and stood awkwardly facing the
c
ount
.

The
c
ount
said nothing and looked at Rasch expectantly. Then, as if extracting a confession from an errant schoolboy,
he said,
"Tell me what you have broug
ht with you then, Herr Doctor …
”

"Your Excellency will forgive me but I need to make a few things clear in advance," answered Rasch in a wavering voice.

The
c
ount
smiled carnivorously and walked to a chair. He sat down and crossed his legs. ”Well?” he indulged.

The d
octor took his cue and paused for a minute to get his thoughts in order. He was feeling nervous and rushed. He needed time to gather his wits, to put the brakes on his racing mind. Where was Von Struck? His panic needed to focus blame on someone.
He’s never there when I need him. Damn the man, damn him to hell and back
… Why was he so panicked? He didn’t need Von Struck; he’d handle this.
Think of the rewards of success. Think of Berlin.

Rasch took a deep breath and, ignoring the
c
ount
’s eyes that bored into him and the agitation in his gut, he plunged on. "Your Excellency, I would firstly like to express the Reichsführer Heinrich Himmler’s sincerest apologies that he could not come here himself. The war has taken a terrible toll on his time and I’m sure you can unders
tand the pressure he is under …
”

The
c
ount
nodded slowly and gesticulated with his hand that Rasch should move on.

"Before I go on with the proceedings, I have been orde
red to check on the quality of ... shall we say ...
your part of the un
derstanding,
Y
our Excellency.”

The
c
ount
glared at Rasch and spoke with deliberation. "They are not here right now. At night, I like them to get out and,” he paused, "…hunt.”

"Ah, I see. How many are there of them? I understand that at the first meeting there were only twelve.”

"I have now a company of thirty-two.”

"Thirty-two?” exclaimed Rasch.

"I have a problem with logistics. We are situated in a very remote
part of the world. My men need to feed twice a month, minimum. There is simply not enough food to provide for a bigger unit.”

Rasch squirmed at the use of the word ‘food’, as it brought home to him the nature of the mission. Nonetheless, his main concern was the size of the unit.

"Thirty-two is not a
company,
it’s more like an oversized platoon." The
c
ount
’s eyes flashed with anger. "But I realise the problem you have with logistics. I have an ide
a, if the
c
ount
will allow me …
” The
c
ount
invited Rasch to continue. "We could easily set up a camp here, in this area. It could be stocked with enough ... er ... shall we say provisions, to feed whatever size regiment you can raise. When the stocks are running low, we could bring more in." He allowed himself a knowing smile. "Believe
me,
we have enough '
food’. Poland is full of 'food.’
”

The
c
ount
's eyes lit up. Of course
they had en
ough livestock to feed an army
—
to feed a plague! It was brilliant. The Germans had what he needed in abundance. Abundance!

“I like your proposal, Herr Doctor. Your Reichsführer is a very resourceful man.” The
c
ount
stood up and started to pace around the room in deep contemplation.

"
Our
Reichsführer, Y
our Excellency,” Rasch corrected him.
"Furthermore, I must take the credit for the suggestion. It occurred to me during my time in the camps in Poland that if the plan was to succeed, we would need to be able to feed the troops when there is a lull in the action.”

The
c
ount
leaned forward. "Who would man the c
amp during the daylight hours
—
Germans, Romanians or my soldiers?"

In this innocent-seeming question lay the crux of the whole meeting.

Rasch didn’t say a word. He looked round for a seat and sat down, making
himself
comfortable. He smiled at the
c
ount
. He wanted to draw out this moment for all it was worth. It seemed to Rasch the roles were reversing. He felt in control now that the
c
ount
stood before him.

The
c
ount
waited.

"I have been working on a serum that will eradicate all your problems in one go. It’s quite brilliant, I can assure you, and I’m very proud of what I have achieved. There are not many Negroes in our camps in Poland and I had to travel far and wide to do my work. I won’t go into details but I studied their skin and invented and refined a technique for harvesting valuable proteins, hormones and various other ingredients to help you with your problem. Don’t for one second think that this problem is only skin-deep. Its roots lie in the very make-up of your, er, kind."

Dracyl remained silent, captive to every word.

Rasch lectured on. "I devised techniques that are far and away more
advanced than anything known of or used up until now. The need for secrecy was, of course, very import
ant and, had I shipped all our
b
lacks to one camp, someone somewhere would have deduced that something was up. So I travelled to them. I was left alone to do my experiments. Any helpers that I had were executed after I had f
inished
—
they were only Jews
—
to ensure that no word got out. Even the camp commandants had no access to my work. So you can see how much effort has been put into this project.
A lot.”

The
c
ount
nodded, excited.
"And, Herr Doctor, were you successful, or did you fail in your quest?”

Relishing every nanosecond of his triumph, Rasch slowly nodded. "Yes,
Y
our Excellency, I was successful. We must obviously conduct trials with your men, but I’m quite sure that we have a serum that would enable your soldiers to fight by daylight.”