The Gemini Divergence (23 page)

The old sergeant sneered, “You mean, ‘a lot’…
a lot of frightened, on the run, destitute, ex Nazis. So what if
Skorzeny finds them, I’ll bet they don’t have two pence to pinch
together.”

Skorzeny, curious to see if they could
recognize him, and always the suave adventurer, stood and walked
over to the two’s table.

He asked, in English with an obvious German
accent, “Pardon me gentlemen, but could I trouble you for a light?
I seem to have left my lighter in my bags back in my room.”

The clerk, without at first showing the
slightest curiosity at Skorzeny’s accent, instantly reached into
his pocket and produced a lighter, flicking it and holding up a
flame in his cupped hands, he answered, “But of course, anything
for another traveling gentleman.”

Skorzeny leaned into the flame and lit his
cigarette as he said, “Why thank you Sir.”

The sergeant, then acknowledging Skorzeny’s
accent, asked him, “Excuse me, my friend, but I couldn’t help but
notice your accent. I don’t mean to trouble you, but were you in
the war? My friend and I were both in the RAF together, and we were
just having a conversation about the war. I wonder if you could
offer an opinion about my friend’s wild theory?”

“Well, I must tell you, with all the
suspicion of Nazis on the run, I say that I feel a little
uncomfortable talking with two RAF veterans about the war.”

Both of the ex RAF men burst into reassurance
that there were no hard feelings and that they were just carrying
on with small talk.

Skorzeny than smiled and asked, “Well, if you
insist. What was it that you gentlemen were talking about?”

The sergeant scoffed at his friend as he
answered Skorzeny, “My delusional friend here, thinks that all of
the scientists the Americans and Russians captured, were all pawns
of a complex Nazi plot to mislead the Allies while Hitler and his
top aids got away. He also thinks that this Skorzeny chap is on his
way to help them out somewhere, probably in Argentina.”

Skorzeny, with nerves of steel, kept his cool
and laughed briefly, then suggested, “Oh, my, that’s an outlandish
observance. Where do you suppose they ran to… the moon?”

Skorzeny looked at the sergeant and started
laughing again as the sergeant reciprocated with laughter as
well.

The clerk, looking slightly put off,
reassured the other two, “Well, keep laughing, someday, you’ll see…
I’ll be vindicated.” He then flipped a newspaper open and started
reading, while ignoring his gentlemanly agitants.

Skorzeny politely waved at the sergeant as he
thanked them both for the light, and returned to his table and
sat.

A reporter that was dining in the same café,
overheard their conversation, and thought that he recognized
Skorzeny from a photograph that he had seen a few weeks before at
work.

He snuck behind two trees that were closer to
the street and found a vantage point that he could snap a picture
without Skorzeny knowing.

He nervously focused, and when the moment was
perfect snapped his picture, then ran to his paper to show his
editor.

*~*

Von Braun was reveling in the ability to live
like a normal citizen in a normal town. He was overjoyed to have
had most of his team moved to Huntsville Alabama to work at the
Army’s ‘Redstone Arsenal’.

It was his first night out without being
watched and he was doing what he had wanted to do more than
anything since his arrival in the United States.

He had always yearned to go to an American
cinema and watch a ‘Disney’ cartoon.

He was not completely alone though, some of
his most trusted advisors had traveled with him to also enjoy their
first night of freedom.

They were enjoying Disney’s newest release,
‘Cinderella’, and marveling at the buttered popcorn that they were
trying for the first time.

They couldn’t believe that they didn’t have
popcorn back in Germany, it tasted wonderful and the aroma was as
mesmerizing as frying bacon.

One of Von Braun’s advisors sitting directly
next to him held out some popcorn and asked if he would like
some.

Von Braun shooshed him at first, as he was
entranced by the majesty of the fantasy film, but then turned to
the same advisor and pointed to the screen and said, “This is
it.”

“What? What is what?” asked the advisor.

“The Cartoon,” Von Braun explained, “it is
the future of space.”

The advisor looked very confused and
reluctantly queried, “Cinderella is the future of space?”

“No… cartoons, animated films, they are the
perfect way to sell the fantasy of space travel to the
politicians,“ whispered Von Braun, “selling rockets with numbers on
papers has never worked well, because most politicians don’t have
the vision to see the end product in their heads.”

“Oh,” said the advisor as a light seemed to
come on in his mind.

“Now I know that we can literally draw a
picture or many pictures in a row, to let them see what we are
planning in a short film. They will eat it up, like this popcorn… I
must meet this Disney man as soon as possible.”

*~*

Gus, Jack and Volmer, were once again
converting a bomber into a scientific platform. But this time it
was a B-36 at Carswell AFB.

Also different this time, was the idea to
make a platform that could be lifted into the bomb bay, removing
the bomb bay doors and replacing them with an all inclusive
hoist-able science platform that could bolt right into the
cavernous opening.

Once the specific mission was over, then they
could remove the platform and restore the bomber to alert
readiness.

As they worked, a jeep approached the plane
and squeaked to a stop.

To the ground crew’s surprise, out stepped
General Lemay, with a lit cigar and a news paper under his arm.

As he approached the Bomber, The General was
shocked to be stopped by a guard.

“Excuse me, General Sir,” spoke the young
guard with a trembling voice, “but you will have to put that cigar
out.”

“What!” Lemay exclaimed, “Do you know who I
am young man?”

“Yes sir,” responded the young Airman, “and
it was you exactly sir, that gave the order that no one, but no one
was allowed to smoke near ‘your’ bombers.”

Lemay smiled, chuckled and took a puff as he
realized that the Guard was quoting him exactly.

The guard then continued, “So you will have
to put it out sir, so the plane doesn’t blow up.”

Lemay then answered emphatically as he looked
suddenly towards the aircraft, “It wouldn’t dare.”

The young guard stood wondering what to do
next and was visibly showing signs of panicked anxiety.

Lemay calmly changed the subject, “Airman,
your boot is untied.”

The airman immediately looked down and
realized that the General was correct. He dropped to the pavement
to tie his boots as fast as he could.

Lemay casually looked around to see if anyone
was watching, then nonchalantly flicked his ashes over the squatted
airman’s helmet, as he walked past him without another word.

The General approached Volmer, handing him
the folded news paper.

Volmer took the paper and responded, “Good
day, Herr General.”

He then looked at the paper and saw a picture
of Skorzeny, casually dining at a Paris Street Café.

“Can you believe the balls that guy has?”
sneered Lemay, “this picture is circulating the entire world. This
guy loves to snub authorities other than the ones he is loyal
to.”

“He does have a certain pizzazz about
himself,” answered Volmer, “it seems to have served him well over
the years. He is very popular with German speaking people all over
the world.”

“He’s a damn gangster,” snapped Lemay, “and
now he’s a damn pain in my ass. The word from the street is that he
is headed for Argentina, which is not too peculiar, seeing that
Peron has granted him amnesty if he can get there. But I am very
uneasy that so many Nazis are running to the same place. It makes
even a simpleton ditch digger wonder if they might be
regrouping.”

“Yes,” responded Volmer, “remember the paper
that we discovered at Roswell?”

“Yes I do, unfortunately,” huffed Lemay,
“President Truman and Secretary of the Air Force Symington, have
both been breathing down my neck because they believe that Skorzeny
is going to funnel tons of hidden Nazi gold to these jokers in
Antarctica.”

“But we still are not one hundred percent
sure that they are in Antarctica, that is just a Russian
theory.”

“Wrong,” Lemay blurted, “One of our subs just
sighted a secret coastal base last night.”

“Really… what now?” asked a very surprised
Volmer.

“Symington didn’t even bother to ask if you
guys had already finished here today,” responded Lemay, “The plane
leaves today to confirm the sub’s sighting. The flight crew is
being briefed as we speak.”

“But we are not ready yet,” pleaded
Volmer.

“Wrong again, Herr Volmer,” snapped Lemay,
“It leaves today. Tell your boys.”

Lemay started to turn and leave, but then he
turned back around and stuck his hand into his coat pocket, “Oh, I
nearly forgot… I submitted the promotion request forms that you
asked for, and these came today.”

He handed Volmer a set of sergeant’s stripes,
in the new Air Force chevron form.

Lemay smiled and winked as he said, “Give
them to Gus.”

Gus and Jack were turning in the last bolt
that held the scientific platform into the bomb bay of the bomber
as Volmer walked up behind them.

Jack said, “I wonder if they are even going
to bother flying this thing, or if we are just going to have to
take this damn thing out in a couple of hours?”

“It’s going to fly,” Volmer stated bluntly,
“And you both are going with it… today.”

Gus complained, “Today? We were going out on
the town tonight to try and meet some girls.”

“I am afraid that General Lemay has come up
with other plans for you boys this weekend, you must go and get
your bags and come back before the flight crew arrives,” insisted
Volmer.

Gus slammed the wrench into the tool box and
said, “Just great, what’s next?”

Volmer handed the stripes to Gus and said,
“The General asked me to give these to you as well.”

Gus’s eyes lit up like a toddler at
Christmas.

“Way to go Gus, let me plant one on you,”
complimented Jack as he reared back and punched Gus in the upper
arm as hard as he could.

Volmer was shocked at the punch and worriedly
asked, “What on earth was that for?”

Gus smiled and explained as he rubbed his arm
where Jack had punched him, “It’s an American military tradition
called pinning. It’s a show of respect for your new rank.”

Volmer scratched his head and said, “I must
say, I don’t think that I will ever fully understand
Americans.”

The crew that arrived was a special crew that
contained two pilots and two co-pilots, so they could fly in shifts
and keep the plane airborne for the entire trip to the other side
of the globe.

After they boarded the plane and ran through
all of the preflight tests, the pilot began starting the
engines.

This was a more tedious task on the b-36 than
other planes because the new bomber had 10 engines, all
together.

Then came their clearance to taxi. Gus
watched as the wing walkers guided the giant out of her parking
berth. Once the colossal craft started rolling, the pilot slowly
guided it to the end of the runway and waited for clearance to take
off.

The pilot called out to the flight engineer
for one last confirmation, “Do we have all engines go?”

The engineer responded, “Six turnin’ and four
burnin’.”

Gus could see the construction crews at the
other end of the Runway. They had already covered the saucer
wreckage that was buried there with concrete, and were almost
completely done with the new runway.

Then Gus heard the clearance from the
tower.

As the pilot acknowledged the tower, he
pushed forward on the collective and let off the brakes, as the
behemoth bird started to roll down the runway until it had the
speed to fly.

Hours later Gus could not stand the boredom.
He wished that he had brought along a book. He slept for about
eight hours, but the plane was still in the air. He had never been
on a flight this long.

The second crew was at the helm and the first
crew was asleep. He and Jack had gossiped for several hours until
they were both tired of that as well. Then they checked all of the
equipment that they could again.

My God
, he thought,
still in the
damn air
.

It made it even worse that they were flying
the majority of the trip over water.

If they were flying over land at least he
could look out at the landmarks and cities. But instead, nothing
but water, and it was growing dark, so soon there would be even
less to see.

*~*

“I am extremely concerned about the submarine
that we picked up on our marine acoustic detection system last
night,” explained General Kreutztrager to Schwerig, in Schwerig’s
office.

“Were the system operators able to discern
who’s submarine that it actually was?” asked Schwerig.

“No,” responded the General, “and that has me
even more concerned. Now I am wondering whether it was Russian or
American.”

“What difference would it make Herr General?”
inquired Schwerig, “They are both our enemies.”

“Yes, but the Russians would bomb us
immediately, without inquiring further. The Americans or the
British would be far more cautious and probe us more. That would
give us some time to come up with a solution.”

“Well we haven’t been bombed yet,” suggested
Schwerig.

Just then the lights went out as the general
quarters alarm began to sound. The red light system came on and
they could hear people out in the hall begin to scurry to their
posts.