She looked at him carefully. “If this is just pre-mission nervousness, I will not remind you of it. However, when this all ends you would like to still discuss it, I would like that too.”

  “Good,” Price said.

  “Now get going!”

  ***

  Price scurried down the embankment into the parking lot of the building and vanished, only to reappear twenty feet closer to the rear entrance in full sprint. He vanished again and again in short bursts, running until he reached the back of the building and crouched against its bay doors cold metal slats. He pressed his ear against the door and listened but he heard nothing. There was no way of telling who or what waited on the other side of the wall. He took a deep breath and dissolved.

  Price rematerialized on the opposite side of the bay door behind a white-coated scientist who was inspecting a massive tank. Price ducked under the tank’s frame and dropped to the ground, crawling across the dusty floor until he could see the rest of the facility.

  SS sonderkommandos patrolled catwalks high above the research area, giving them a clear view of the floor and a wide field of fire. More brown-shirted Nazis stood on a second-story platform at the far end of the building, looking down with contempt at the men working below.

  The area was crawling with researchers assembled at various stations throughout the lower level. The stench of chemicals and burnt metal filled the air. Price searched for Louis Brevot in the sea of lab coats and blinking lights.

  A voice called out from the platform above that made everyone inside the facility stop. “Your attention, please!”

  Price looked up to see an elderly man dressed in long black robes trimmed with elaborate gold fringe, standing with his arms raised. There was a triangle embroidered on his chest with beams of light shooting in every direction from it. Aleister Crowley waved his hands and said, “I would like all of you to step away from your stations and go to either side of the building.”

  He looked down with satisfaction as the researchers cleared from the floor, then turned around and said, “Bring our guest forward if you do not mind.”

  Two stormtroopers carried a chair to the front of the platform. Louis Brevot struggled fiercely against the bonds holding to the chair and the gag in his mouth. Crowley swept the hair out of his face and turned back to the crowd of onlookers and said, “Can you hear me, Omega? I know you are with us.”

  The magician surveyed the facility, waiting. Finally, he frowned and said, “I respect your resolve, my friend. Perhaps you require more substantial incentive?”

  Obersturmbannfuhrer Kramer dragged a cursing, kicking, Amelie Brevot across the floor. Her shoes scraped the platform’s metal surface, and Kramer shook her violently until she stopped fighting. Kramer held up a strange-looking pistol and said, “I have your little friend, Omega. If you do not show yourself within five seconds, the whore dies.” Kramer rested the barrel of the pistol against the side of Amelie’s head and said, “Oh, well. Eins, zwie, drei—”

  Shouts rang out at the sight of a naked man appearing in the center of the floor, running in full sprint.

  “Vampirs!” Kramer shouted.

  All of the lights inside the facility went out and a bright volley of muzzle flashes filled the balcony as the sonderkommandos fired at Price. They shouted at one another when they saw him through the large infrared lenses mounted to their rifles, but just as they shot at him, he vanished again. Bullets ricocheted off of the concrete floor, punching holes in the equipment and striking several of the researchers. Crowley bent over the platform and shouted, “He’s almost here!”

  One of the sonderkommandos appeared to leap off of the catwalk and fall screaming to the floor below. Price took a running leap at the platform and landed only a few feet away from Crowley, looking up at him with a wicked, satisfied grin. “Nice try,” Price said.

  Amelie Brevot pushed Obersturmbannfuhrer Kramer away from her and ripped the gun out of his hand. She turned to where Price was crouched and fired at him. A blue-tipped dart spiraled through the air at Price, but it passed through thin air. Price was gone.

  Amelie turned to her left and fired again, into nothingness. The dart sailed toward a brick wall just as Price appeared in time to catch its barbed tip in the shoulder. He ripped the dart out and disappeared.

  Amelie turned and fired repeatedly into the crowd of sonderkommandos gathered on the platform. They shouted in confusion and dove for cover to escape the gunshots.

  Price appeared in front of them, staggering forward with a chest full of the darts. He reached for the gun in Amelie’s hand, but stumbled and fell to one knee. Amelie cocked her gun and stuck it against Price’s forehead.

  “Do it,” Kramer said.

  Amelie fired and Price collapsed to the ground in a heap, making Obersturmbannfuhrer Kramer let out a shout of excitement. He swept Amelie up in his arms and kissed her on the mouth. He put her down and bent over Price, patting him on the back as he said, “Guten tag, Herr Omega. You are now the one at an end, ja?”

  ***

  Price struggled to open his eyes. His body was numb but he managed to lift his head. When he opened his mouth to speak, nothing but long streams of metallic-tasting spittle poured out.

  Obersturmbannfuhrer Kramer stood in front of him, dangling a glass slide in front of Price. “I am glad to see you are awake. We were not sure about the dosage level and some suspected you would not survive. You have most unique blood, Herr Omega. The Third Reich will benefit greatly from your contribution to our research.”

  Price looked over at where Amelie stood, dressed in a snug German uniform decorated with swastika patches. He muttered something unintelligible but the venom was clear in his intent. Amelie pinched his cheek and said, “Poor, poor Omega. All this time, thinking you were the only special one in the whole world. You and that old fool Donovan thought the Americans were so damn invincible.” She stuck out her bottom lip in an affected pout, “I am sorry to disappoint you. In terms of men possessed of great powers in this world, you are rather, shall we say, average?”

  Louis Brevot squirmed against his restraints and Obersturmbannfuhrer Kramer walked over to him to remove his gag. “You have something to add?”

  Brevot snapped, “Amelie! Have you lost your mind?”

  Amelie walked across the platform at her brother and backhanded him across the face so fiercely it cracked the corner of his mouth. “Amelie Brevot died the day she tried to convince you and all the other cowards that Hitler was coming! I foresaw Nazis parading through the streets of Paris, but you and all the other Vichy mongrels ignored my warnings. You handed my country over without so much as a whimper. How ironic that it was der Fuhrer who appreciated my abilities and gave me new life as Deomai.”

  Price finally got his mouth to work. He looked over at Aleister Crowley and said, “You must be the Antichrist. That’s a nice robe. Do they make one for men?”

  Crowley pressed his hands together and smiled thinly. “I do not think you want to be my enemy, Mr. Price. You are of great interest to me and it may only be my intervention that allows you to survive just a few more days.” Crowley cupped Price’s chin in the palm of his hand and said, “Hopefully you will survive long enough to be my new pet.”

  Price turned to Kramer, “On second thought, can I just go with you guys?”

  Kramer snickered and wagged his finger, “Do not be so flippant. You will not enjoy our research methods, Herr Omega, I assure you.”

  “Then I guess it’s lucky for me none of you will be alive that much longer,” Price said.

  “This is not the time for what you would call tough-guy-talk!” Kramer held up one of the blue-tipped darts and said, “The American scientists studied you for years, ja? But it only took der Fuhrer’s scientists less than two days to unravel your secrets. Your powers, as I am sure you know by now, are completely neutralized. I know you have been trying.”

  Price’s jaw quivered and he suddenly slumped in his chair, defeated. The Obersturmbannfuhrer laughed sharply, “Of course you have been trying, or else, you would have POOF! Vanished away by now. Can you admit the German superiority in this regard or must we earn your respect?”

  Price stared down at the floor and said quietly, “How about you all just go to hell instead?”

  “Nein. Nein, nein, nein,” Kramer said. “You are the one who will be going to hell, Herr Omega. Of that much I can assure you. First we do a complete physical on you, and then, I think, we begin with the blowtorches.”

  Amelie folded her arms and huffed in disgust, “I do not think the American dog believes you, Herr Kramer. A test of our fortitude is required.”

  Kramer turned to look at her, “What did you have in mind?”

  Amelie grabbed the back of Louis Brevot’s chair and dragged it to the edge of the platform, rocking him back and forth over the precipice.

  “What are you doing?” Louis said, peering over the ledge. “Amelie, stop!”

  “I have given myself over completely to der Fuhrer, Agent Omega. I would sacrifice anything and everything for him. So tell me, what hope is there for you?” Amelie looked at her brother and said, “Au revoir, Louis.” She lifted her foot and kicked him in the center of the chest, sending him and the chair hurtling over the edge.

  Louis Brevot’s howls of terror echoed throughout the building, then stopped suddenly right before the chair smashed to pieces on the floor.

  Kramer’s eyebrows raised in surprise at Amelie and said, “Mein gott, you are enthusiastic.” He pinched her on the cheek, “I hope you save some of that enthusiasm for me, ja? So where were we, Herr Omega?” Kramer turned to look at his prisoner and felt the breath escape his lungs like someone had slammed a baseball bat into his gut. Price’s chair was empty.

  Kramer ran to the edge of the platform, seeing nothing but pieces of broken chair and a white laboratory jacket laying in a puddle of clothing. He looked in anger to see Agent Omega running across the floor with a naked Louis Brevot over his shoulder. “Grab them!” Kramer bellowed.

  A flock of researchers swarmed in on the men, diving just as Price and Brevot vanished.

  “Where are they? Find them!” Kramer shouted.

  The sonderkommandos poured down from the platform to get out of the building, running into the crowd of researchers and jamming their rifle butts into them to clear the way.

  Amelie came to the Obersturmbannfuhrer’s side and said, “I do not understand. How could he have recovered his powers so quickly?”

  Kramer turned and snatched her by the throat, squeezing viciously and snarling, “Better yet, how is it that you, who can supposedly see the future, did not know he would escape?”

  “I did not know, I swear to you,” Amelie wheezed, trying to wrench his hands from her neck.

  Aleister Crowley wrapped his hands around Kramer’s arm and said, “Obersturmbannfuhrer, please! Her powers are new and not always predictable. She can help us catch the American if we go now. The roads must be blocked off! The woods must be searched!”

  ***

  The parking lot was full of sonderkommandos piling into vehicles. Amelie hurried out of the building, waving her arms for the Obersturmbannfuhrer’s car to stop. She ran past two uniformed SS men waiting on a Zundapp motorcycle for the cars in front of them to clear out. She did not look at either of them as she passed.

  The Obersturmbannfuhrer’s driver stopped the car and Amelie pulled open the rear door and plopped down on the leather backseat beside Kramer. She grabbed his knee and said, “Do not look so sad, my love. You will find the American dog and my useless brother. Der Fuhrer will be most gratified when you deliver his most hated enemy.” She ran her hand up the inside of his thigh and said, “But not as much as I will.”

  Kramer kissed her on the lips and said, “You are right. There is no place in Germany that I cannot find them.”

  The Zundapp motorcycle pulled up beside the Obersturmbannfuhrer’s car. Both soldier’s faces were obscured by grime-covered goggles. Amelie looked through the window, locking eyes with the man driving the motorcycle, seeing the long scar along his cheek and said, “Where could anyone hide from the likes of you, Herr Kramer? It would be foolish to try.”

  Episode 3

  OPERATION: FUHRERDIE!

  1945

  “Do you, Mein Fuhrer, take Eva Braun to be your wife?”

  Adolph Hitler looked down at the small desk and nodded his head. Eva touched his trembling hand and he gently said, “I do.”

  There was a small outburst of applause within the Fuhrerbunker’s map room. Hitler stood up from the table abruptly and everyone fell silent. He turned to his secretary, “First, we will eat, then you and I must speak in private.”

  At four o’clock that morning, Hitler summoned the command staff into his secretary’s makeshift office and said, “You will sign these documents as witnesses to my last will and testament.”

  Joseph Goebbels looked down at the stacks of meticulously typed pages in confusion. “Mein Fuhrer, certainly it has not come to this.”

  Hitler pressed his hand against his stomach, trying to ease the boiling contents within. His hand shook involuntarily as he lifted his finger at Goebbels and said, “Sign.”

  All of the men bent over the desk and scribbled their names.

  Hitler hunched over, wincing in pain. “Read aloud what it says, Herr Minister.”

  Goebbels lifted the first page and stood straight, clearing his throat before he spoke, reading as if he were delivering a radio announcement. “It says that you and your wife choose death over capture and wish to be cremated.”

  Hitler nodded, “Go on.”

  “You donate your art collection to Linz. Objects of sentiment may be distributed to those listed, in reward for their loyalty. Your other possessions belong to the party.”

  “Correct.” Hitler tapped the top of a stack of papers assembled on the desk, “This is my final testament, to let the world know that I had no intention of making war on any other nation. As you all know, I was driven into this by the miserable International Jewry. It was they who brought us to this, not I.”

  All of the men nodded, then Hitler waved for them to come closer to the desk and look at a different group of papers. “These are my instructions for the Reich. They are to be followed.”

  Goebbels looked down at the sheet, scanning it quickly. No one was named as a new Fuhrer. Someone else was going to be President. Goebbels was listed only as Chancellor. He forced a smile and bowed his head. “Thank you, Mein Fuhrer.”

  Hitler eased himself into the chair beside his secretary and covered his face with a trembling hand. “Now leave me.”

  All of the men saluted Hitler and said, “Seig Heil!” Goebbels followed the others out of the room, but turned in the opposite direction and headed for a doorway at the far end of the bunker. He knocked quickly, opening it before there was a reply. “Herr Kunz?”

  Helmut Kunz was bent over his dentist’s chair, extracting a tooth from one of the officers. “Yes, Herr Goebbels?”

  “May I speak with you a moment in private?”

  Kunz picked up the officer’s hand and wrapped it around the clamp, saying, “Hold this in place, just like this. The tooth is not out yet, so do not move.” Kunz wiped his bloody hand across his white coat and followed Goebbels into the hallway. “What can I do for you, Herr Minister?”

  “I need to ask you a personal favor.”

  “Anything.”

  “I want you to inject all six of my children with enough morphine to render them unconscious. Once they are asleep, give them enough cyanide to kill them.”

  Kunz did not speak for a moment, only making small grunting sounds in his throat as he looked at the man. “I do not understand—”

  Goebbels clapped him on the arm, “The Fuhrer and his wife are going to kill themselves. After that happens, you are going to euthanize my little ones. My wife and I will then leave the Fuhrerbunker and kill ourselves.” Goebbels smiled and said, “I’m sure you understand, I cannot give them the cyanide myself. That would be unthinkable.”

  ***

  The Fuhrerbunker’s staff and all of their families lined up in front of the Fuhrer and his wife. Eva Braun moved in unison with her husband as they said goodbye to each of them. Eva smiled gently when the young Goebbels children rushed forward to hug her. She ran her fingers through their blonde hair and kissed them one by one, saying, “I love you, so much.”

  “We love you too, Aunt Eva. And you too, Uncle Adolph.”

  Hitler patted the children on their heads, but did not linger on any individual. He made his way down the rest of the line slowly, hunched over, muttering softly when he spoke.

  Hitler and Eva waved to everyone and walked together into the Fuhrer’s private study. Hitler shut the heavy metal door behind his wife and loosened his tie. “It is time. At last.”

  Eva looked at her watch and nodded. It was two-thirty in the afternoon. She took out the small white cyanide pill from its plastic container and cupped it in her palm. “I am ready,” she said.

  They sat together on the couch and Hitler let out a long sigh. He touched his wife on the leg. She put her hand over his. “Will it really smell like almonds?” she said.

 

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