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is going to be very sorry
she tried to get the better of me, she thought.
“Lana!” Von Kurst pointed his finger and spoke sternly, “you
will return to Paris and await my phone call. We will see each other again at
the cocktail evening.”
“But, Otto!”
“No buts Lana! Do as you are told!”
Wilhelm Oratz walked briskly towards the bedroom door,
“Otto, I will order some breakfast for Helga,” he said, his gaze not leaving
Lana Franke as he quickly strode past her. “Bad girl,” he whispered.
“PISS OFF!”
“Helga,” said Von Kurst, “get dressed. We are all leaving in
an hour!”
“So, how’s our guest?” Ash Piper quickly entered Commander
Hertschell’s office and sat down next to Jeanette Descard, with Colonel Mann,
as always, sat to his right.
“He is still very shook up and anxious,” Jeanette worriedly
glanced at Maurice Hertschell and Charles Mann. There was an intense look in
her eyes.
“Well, there is obviously a great deal on your mind
Jeanette,” said the Colonel, “so let’s move on, shall we? Your report please.”
Jeanette opened a brown leather briefcase and pulled out a
wad of notes and a Dictaphone. “As usual, the interview was fully recorded,
however, I have made notes of the more interesting, and shall I say, disturbing
facts concerning our current predicament.” The three men looked on as CEATA’s
Chief Criminal Psychologist scanned her notes, took a sip of water from a glass
and continued. “The man whom Sergeant Piper brought in for questioning is
eighteen years old. His name is Manfred Senghas, he is a native of Bonn, but
has been working and living in Aachen for just over a year and a half. Just
over seven months ago, our Mister Senghas joined a small right wing party,
based in Aachen. This so called political party had a membership of twenty six
individuals, all aged between eighteen to forty three.” Jeanette re-checked her
notes and took another sip of water, her colleagues listening attentively.
“This party of right wingers,” she continued, “were in fact Neo-Nazis who
hated, and I must stress the word, hated, immigrants of all nationalities
arriving into their country, namely of course, Germany.” The atmosphere in the
room was becoming oppressive, Piper knew where Jeanette’s report was going and
already his skin was beginning to crawl. “Five months ago,” Jeanette continued,
“or thereabouts, a man visited this Neo-Nazi group and introduced himself, and
yes, the man in question had a large birth mark under his right jaw. The man
discussed, what Mister Senghas quaintly called ‘the immigrant issue’, and spoke
of Germany’s national identity being wiped out…” there was another pause as
Jeanette looked solemnly at all concerned, “…by the Untermenschen.”
“Shit,” muttered Piper, “undesirables, sub-humans, this
smells of links to the SS.”
“Doesn’t it just,” replied Jeanette, “but, if you will bear
with me Sergeant, this matter gets even more sordid, and disturbing.” Piper
nodded his head. “So influential was the man with the birthmark and the issues
he discussed over three separate visits that twenty two of these Neo-Nazis,
including Mister Senghas, joined, what the man called, The Grenadiers.” Maurice
Hertschell shot a worried glance towards Charles Mann then Piper as Jeanette
continued her report, “the grenadiers were to be a well trained Kampfgruppen,
or Battle Group, to move across Europe, sowing the seeds of discontent
regarding the immigrant issue. Upon joining this elite group of, what I think
we can call…terrorists, each individual took what Mister Senghas called a Blood
Oath, swearing his loyalty and his honour, to his…Fuhrer.” The three men sat
silent, all becoming deeply concerned as the significance of Doctor Descard’s
report slowly dawned on them. “From then on they were taken, seemingly
blindfolded for most of the journey, to a training facility at a farmhouse,
somewhere, Mister