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South of Marienwerder, West Prussia
Nazi Germany
February 7, 1945

 

Gruber stared ahead, unable to check the excitement he now felt. He had done his part, delivering Vogel to his family, and the man had been true to his word, delivering the exact location of what should be so much gold, he could shut down his entire operation, move out of the way of the Russians, and sit out the war in some small town unlikely to draw any attention from the Americans when they rolled through.

In fact, leaving the country after the war might be a good idea. There would be little left of Germany by then, and why be a rich man in a poor country? Life in America with millions in gold would be bliss.

New York City!

He closed his eyes, imagining what it would be like living the high life on the streets of the city that never slept.

“We’re here, sir.”

Travel permits had been easy with his connections, his small convoy of cars and trucks passing through the checkpoints unchallenged, though with each passing, the warnings of what lay ahead became more dire. The front was close, which meant little time. This wasn’t an exploratory mission to see if Vogel had been telling the truth, this was a mission to retrieve as much as they could before it was too late.

He leaned out his window, taking in the sight, his chest tightening as he cursed. The car came to a halt and he stepped out, surveying the area, his hands on his hips as his heart hammered at the betrayal.

“There’s nothing here!” He kicked at the snow-covered dirt, his men mingling about, afraid to say anything as his rage built. “The bastard lied to me! I want him dead! I want his family dead! And find those two women I moved for him! I want them dead too!”

“Sir!”

He turned toward the call, spotting one of his men kicking at something. “What is it?”

“I’m not sure, but something was here.”

Gruber quickly joined his man pointing at a square in the ground. “What’s that?”

“I’m not sure.”

“There’s another one over here.”

Gruber joined his other man, finding an identical square in the ground about ten paces from the first.

“Here’s another!”

Gruber smiled. “It’s a fence. Or at least it was.” He stared at their surroundings. “Something was here, and they tried to hide it.”

“But why would they leave these here? Why not remove the posts?”

Gruber kicked the ground with the toe of his shoe. “It’s frozen solid. Have you ever tried to remove a fence post frozen in place?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “All they could do was cut them off at the base, and hope no one would find them.” He waved his arm around him. “Search everywhere.” He jabbed a finger at the hillside in front of them. “Especially there. That’s where I think we’ll find our gold.”

His men were powered by greed and excitement now, the cold forgotten as they eagerly spread out, most heading for the hillside with shovels. He heard a buzzing sound in the distance, but ignored it, his ears pounding with excitement as his men attacked the frozen hillside.

All of his avarice filled dreams were about to come true.

The buzz grew louder.

He stared toward where the sound was coming from, but saw nothing. It sounded like an engine of some sort. He stared down the road, a sudden fear gripping him that the SS might be returning to make sure their gold was safe, when one of his men pointed.

“Look!”

He turned and the blood drained from his face as he spotted two planes racing toward them. He looked about, yet there was nowhere to hide, only the vehicles. He ran toward the car, cursing his overweight bulk as he searched for his driver. He spotted him at the hillside. “Get me out of here!”

His driver spotted the planes and froze for a moment, their distant buzz now a high-pitched wail, their pilots obviously having spotted a target of opportunity. He yanked open the rear door and climbed in as his driver reached him. The door slammed shut and his driver took his seat, cranking the engine, gunfire erupting from the Allied fighters as it roared to life.

His driver floored it, and Gruber watched in horror as his men scrambled, at least half a dozen felled by the first volley.

Then his bladder gave way as his ears filled with the high-pitched wail of a bomb dropping.

Ending his parasitic existence.