SS Race and Settlement Main Office (RuSHA)
Munich
Heinrich Himmler looked like hell. The Reichsführer’s complexion was a sickly shade of green, his droopy nose was a red and shiny blob, and his bloodshot eyes watered behind wire-rimmed glasses.
Masking a grin, Karl raised his arm and voice in greeting. “Heil Hitler!”
The pained expression in Himmler’s gaze was gratifying, as was the way he tottered to the side when he stood. After last night’s debauchery, it was a minor miracle the man remained upright.
Excellent. Today’s meeting might be enjoyable after all.
Massaging the bags under his eyes, Himmler stepped out from behind his desk with care and waved Karl into the office. “What a party. My head still aches from all the champagne.”
As bad as the man looked, Himmler’s uniform was worse, bordering on unacceptable for any officer: His tie was loose, his collar was slightly askew, and he clearly hadn’t bothered to shine his boots this morning. Even the Reichsführer’s massive cherry desk was in disarray. Normally free of paperwork and polished to a high gloss, the desktop was covered with files, an overflowing ashtray, a half-eaten sandwich, and three used coffee cups.
If Karl was lucky, Himmler’s untidiness was a reflection of his mental state.
“Yesterday was a spectacular celebration in honor of the Führer.” Karl clapped his hands together and rubbed them vigorously.
The Reichsführer winced. “Please. A little less volume.” He waved toward the round conference table in the corner of the room. “Take a seat. Haschen will bring tea.” Himmler’s pasty face brightened as a stunning blonde in a form-fitting charcoal number appeared in the doorway. “There you are, my dear.” He puffed out his chest, managing to look both gallant and ridiculous. “On the conference table, please.”
The young woman favored her boss with a feline smile, and her hips swayed in a seductive figure eight as she carried a tray of tea and biscuits to the table. Himmler’s eyes roamed over her exposed cleavage. The Reichsführer’s assistant poured the tea with grace and added two lumps of sugar before handing Himmler the cup. Their fingers touched, then lingered.
It was impossible to miss the intimate glances. The man was infatuated. In lust.
She turned to Karl, and while her smile was wide, it was much less friendly. “Sugar?”
Karl shook his head.
“Thank you, Haschen.” Himmler sat back and winked at his assistant. “I’ll ring if there’s anything else.”
“Of course. Anything at all,” she called out before sashaying out the door.
The gossip was true, then. The Reichsführer was planning a move. Rumor had it Himmler was embroiled in a passionate affair with his much younger secretary. The affair shed light on the divorce law Himmler instigated last year that gave a man the right to divorce his wife if she was sterile or refused to bear children.
Karl gulped down his tea, set the cup down in its saucer, and waited.
“You asked for this meeting,” Himmler prompted. “What’s on your mind?”
So begins the battle. “I’ll come straight to the point. I wish to increase my involvement with this office.”
“RuSHA?” Himmler’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re interested in our efforts here. Why?”
Karl chose the boldest possible play, since daring was a perfect mask for stealth. “Forgive my bluntness, Heinrich, but I’m aware of certain problems that have cropped up in the children at Hochland Home.” He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Many are backward. I’ve seen them myself.”
Himmler nodded. “We’re aware of the physical defects, the mental slowness. It’s troubling, given their excellent bloodlines.” Sampling his tea, he grimaced before adding another sugar cube to his cup.
“Do we know how many children are affected?”
Himmler frowned at that question. “Yes. I do. As I said, it’s regrettable, but we’ll get to the bottom of things. The Führer has given me free rein, and I’ve tasked some of our best doctors to find a solution. They’re working on the problem at a research facility in Berlin.”
So Allina’s hunch was correct. They were experimenting on Lebensborn children, and only God and Himmler’s butchers knew what those experiments entailed. That gave Karl little room to maneuver, and only one real option.
He nodded slowly but said no more, allowing the silence to stretch out between them, hoping Himmler would take the bait.
“What’s your point, Karl?” he prompted. “I can see the gears turning from here.”
“I believe I know why the defects are happening,” Karl said, leaning forward, “but I must conduct an experiment of my own to prove it.”
“You?” Himmler reared back with a snort. “Karl, you’re no scientist.”
Karl dipped his head. “You’re right, sir. I’m just a soldier.” He paused for a long moment for effect, before leaning in with narrowed eyes. “But when I saw those children, I asked myself: How would the Reichsführer see the situation?”
Himmler stroked his chin. “And?”
“I believe the children are coddled, sir. The Schwestern do their best,” Karl said with a shrug, “but they’re women. These young ones need discipline. A soldier’s discipline.” He knew he’d hit the perfect note when the Reichsführer reached for pen and paper.
“Your logic is sound.” Himmler scribbled a few notes. “Go on.”
“Dozens of men, honest soldiers hardened by work, pass through Hochland Home each month. They can’t spend all their time with the ladies,” he said. “You know what happens when men have excess time on their hands.”
“Too much drinking.” Himmler massaged his temple. “Gambling. Fighting.”
“Exactly. I’ll have a few of my men organize activities. We’ll invigorate these children while we keep the men in line.”
“Brilliant tactics,” Himmler murmured, scribbling additional notes. “You suggest we start the boys’ military training in the cradle.”
“We’ll model the physical exercise on the Hitler Youth program. The transition should be seamless once the boys are old enough to join.” Convincing Allina of his plan was another problem. She’d need to play the part of loyal, devoted Schwester to help her children.
“And the girls?” Himmler asked, tapping his pen on the pad.
Karl grinned. “We need strong women who’ll bear strapping sons for the Reich.”
Himmler shook his pen at Karl. “Markus was right about you. He always said you were an original thinker.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Very well,” Himmler said, tossing pad and pen on his desk. “Conduct your experiment with ten children. My scientists will study the rest. We’ll see which team triumphs, eh?”
Only ten. That wouldn’t sit well with Allina, but he couldn’t push it. This was victory.
Karl grinned. “I look forward to the battle.”
“You have three months,” Himmler said. “Send me your plans in advance. I want weekly reports from whomever you designate as chief administrator.”
“You’ll get them.”
“I’m sure I will.” Himmler narrowed his eyes. “Your interest in the Lebensborn program is surprising. You’re unmarried and haven’t fathered any children. Or have you?”
Karl raised his hands in mock surrender. “Not yet.”
“Ah, the girl from last night, the one who left dinner early. What’s her name again?”
“Allina Gottlieb.”
“She’s lovely. A bit on the quiet side,” Himmler said, “but I sensed a feistiness under that calm.”
Karl coughed, earning a chuckle from the Reichsführer.
“I’m assuming her bloodline is good?” Himmler asked.
“Impeccable, sir,” Karl lied smoothly. “I realize your office must undertake its own investigation, but I’d be happy to supply the office with the necessary documentation.”
“You want more than a romantic liaison with this girl?” Himmler leaned back and squinted.
Karl shrugged. “I’ve got to convince her first, but the background check for a marriage license takes months to approve. We should begin the process now.” As soon as he made sure the appropriate forged documents were in place.
“Fine, fine. The sooner you marry, the better. We expect our men to produce no less than six children from their marriages,” Himmler said, “and to spread their seed outside of them.”
Hypocrite. Everyone knew Gudrun was the Reichsführer’s only legitimate child. “That won’t be a problem, sir.”
Leaning forward, Himmler offered a tolerant smile. “Let me give you a piece of advice. It was obvious last night you feel some tenderness for this girl. You may even imagine yourself in love. But believe me, fidelity is a myth perpetrated by women.”
“Is that so?”
Himmler chuckled. “Enjoy the lovely Allina as you will. When the feelings fade, you’ll be grateful to the Lebensborn program. There are many, many women waiting for the chance to serve Germany,” he said. “We sow our seed and create the next generation of proud Germans for our Führer in the process.” The man slapped his knees, clearly enamored of his own logic.
“This will be your greatest victory, sir,” Karl said.
“It will, indeed.” Himmler escorted Karl to the door. “Pending our investigation into the girl’s bloodlines, you have my full support.”