Improbable Nazi (Parallel Nazi Book 2) Read online

  Improbable Nazi

  The Parallel Nazi – Book 2

  Ward Wagher

  Improbable Nazi

  The Parallel Nazi – Book 2

  Ward Wagher

  Copyright © 2017 Ward Wagher

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 1974340058

  ISBN-13: 978-1974340057

  Books by Ward Wagher

  The Parallel Nazi Series

  Accidental Nazi

  Improbable Nazi

  The Scott Baughman Saga

  Hannah Sorpat’s Eye (A Novel of Alien Abduction)

  Without Beginning of Days

  Witnesses in the Cloud

  The Chronicles of Montora

  The Mountains of Montora

  The Margrave of Montora

  The Snows of Montora

  Christmas in Montora

  The Diamonds of Montora

  Harcourt’s World

  The Wealth of the Worlds

  The Caledon Emergence

  Dynastic Ambition

  DEDICATION

  In memory of Grandma Wagher, who encouraged me to be creative.

  CONTENTS

  DEDICATION

  CONTENTS

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FORTY

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Historical fiction requires a great deal of research. I not only had to look up the things I did not know, but I also had to look up the things I thought I did know. The wealth of information on the Internet about the darkest period of German history saved time, and also provided that spark which generated ideas for other plot elements. I wish to thank those whose efforts made this material accessible.

  CHAPTER ONE

  December 24, 1941; 9 PM

  Carinhall, Schorfheide Forest

  The subdued clink of silver against china and the background crackling of the hearth provided the ambiance for a Yuletide eve dinner at Carinhall. This was a small dinner by the standards of the host and hostess, Hermann and Emmy Goering. A mere twenty-five were in attendance. In addition to the servers, a small string ensemble played Strauss waltzes.

  Prior to the events in the past six months, this would have been an absurdly small crowd for a major Nazi Party dinner. But, Hitler’s death in early June of 1941 had triggered a time of instability in Germany that culminated in the deaths of Himmler, Goebbels and most of the SS leadership. Goering was clearly feeling his way into the new order.

  Heinrich Schloss, the Chancellor of the German Reich, looked around the enormous dining room and marveled to himself. Six months previously, on the very day Hitler died in a plane crash, he had been transported from 1982 Berlin to another Germany in June of 1941. Whether it was by magic or some unknown force, he had landed in a world that Schloss the historian had lectured about. And yet it was not exactly the same world. In his world, Hitler had brought about the complete destruction of Germany and resulted in the Soviet Union sitting astride all of Eastern Europe. And in this world, where he now lived, he was recognized as the leader of the Nazi Party. Somehow, his other self, whom he had called the Alter-Schloss had murdered the previous party leader, Martin Bormann and assumed the role of one of the leaders of Germany.

  He glanced over at the radiant, flame-haired woman sitting at his side. A mistress of his other self, he had guiltily taken up with her because he didn’t know what else to do. And, along the way he had fallen in love.

  “Are you having a good time, my Dear?” he murmured to her in question.

  “Oh, Schatzi, this evening has been marvelous,” Gisela Badhoff replied. “I am so glad you accepted the invitation.”

  He was delighted in her enjoyment, although he did not particularly like parties himself. Across the table his sister, Renate Schreiber, and her husband Peter watched the interplay with amusement. Renate knew he detested parties.

  Somewhere in the confusion of the previous June, Schloss determined his mission: to avoid the destruction of Germany and also to prevent the destruction of European Jewry. By adroitly playing the members of the governing council of Germany against one another, and manipulating the world leaders, he had avoided widening the war with the English, canceled the invasion of Russia and largely placated a hostile United States.

  The Reichsmarshall, Hermann Goering yelled down the table. “A great meal, is it not, Herr Reichschancellor?”

  Schloss, having steeled himself against the onslaught of his host leaned in and looked up the table with a grin.

  “A very good meal, Herr Reichsmarshall. I do not know how you do it.”

  Goering waved a turkey drumstick in the air to make his point. “My leibeigenschaft are loyal. They work hard to save the best of the farms for my table. I, of course, try to take care of them in turn, nicht wahr?”

  Schloss raised an eyebrow and tilted his head slightly to acknowledge the point. Goering was, in turn, a boor, a glutton, a kleptomaniac and a drug addict. But he was also capable of great courage, honor and generosity to his friends and to the Reich. Over the past several weeks he had come to the conclusion that the Reichsmarshall represented the best of the old Nazi leadership, and he was badly flawed.

  Schloss’s final showdown with Himmler came on December 12 and this had placed Schloss in the leadership of the Reich as well as its unquestioned master. His first steps were to de-fang the SS and to completely cease the persecution of the Jews. The job was not complete by any means. In fact, Schloss’s adjutant Karl Rainer had commented that they would likely not complete the task during their lifetimes.

  “You’re pensive tonight, Hennie,” Renate said.

  Schloss shook his head. “Just considering the events of the past year. Who would have believed?”

  She smiled sadly at her brother. “Once again you are trying to carry the burdens of the whole world on your shoulders.” She looked over at Gisela. “Have you not been able to disabuse him of this?”

  Schloss chuckled. “I am not carrying the burdens of the entire world. Merely those of the Fatherland.”

  “And you have Peter and Karl to help.”


  Peter Schreiber raised his hands. “Keep me out of this, Rennie.”

  She elbowed him. “My husband the coward.”

  “Oh, no,” he rejoined. “I simply want to enjoy this magnificent meal without getting maudlin.”

  “Ha!” Goering exclaimed as he overheard the conversation. “You should enjoy this meal! It’s the finest in North Germany.”

  Schloss smiled at the Reichsmarshall. Since Goering was with Emmy tonight, he was on his best behavior. Other than his atrocious table manners, his more objectionable characteristics were in abeyance. In fact, Emmy had reached up and eased his arm down when he was waving the turkey drumstick about. Goering had looked over at her abashed. Schloss concluded that it was true that Goering adored his wife.

  Following the dinner the Reichsmarshall invited the men into the den where he distributed cigars and cognac. Goering’s bonhomie was another aspect of the man Schloss had not really seen before. He supposed the stress associated with Hitler’s death and the intervening months of intrigue would try anyone. And Schloss had to agree the evening was relaxing. Plus, he found it entertaining to watch Peter struggle with the cigar.

  “Will we return to something like normality?” Emmy Goering asked Gisela Badhoff. The two women had retreated to the powder room.

  “I despair of ever returning to a normal life,” Gisela said, “although I understand what you are asking. Our men have succeeded in disposing of the most serious threats.”

  “What does Herr Schloss want?”

  Gisela chuckled softly. “Heinrich Schloss is the most straight-forward of men. He has said exactly what he desires. He wishes to build a Germany that no one will dare touch. He wants to end the suicidal foreign adventures. He wants to protect the Jews.”

  “And what does he intend for my Hermann?”

  “I do not understand your question, Frau Goering.”

  “My husband did not exactly cover himself in glory over the past months,” Emmy said with a wry smile.

  “Everyone struggled,” Gisela said. “Herr Hitler left an enormous vacuum when he died. I suspect no one was quite sure of the expectations.”

  “Except for Herr Schloss,” Emmy said. “My husband said there was no question in his mind that he had a mission and would stop at nothing to fulfill it.”

  “To save the Fatherland. That should have been at the forefront of everyone’s thinking.”

  Emmy snorted. “It was unquestioned in Herr Schloss’s thinking. I fear many of the others were consumed by their venality or the lust for power.”

  “Perhaps that is so,” Gisela said.

  “I wanted to ask you, my friend, how we can mutually make our men successful. Oh, Herr Schloss is already successful. My Hermann is addicted to morphine. I fear it will consume him. He has fought it for fifteen years.”

  “I had heard rumors,” Gisela said, “but I really did not know. He conceals it well.”

  “He is a powerful man. If one doctor will not give him what he wants, he finds another. One does not tell the Reichsmarshall no,” Emmy said.

  “Hennie has said nothing about that. He is concerned, however, about how Herr Goering acquired his wealth.”

  Emmy smiled at the other woman. “You are as honest and straightforward as Herr Schloss. Hermann has made himself incredibly wealthy at the expense of those who were not able to defend themselves.”

  “You know this?”

  “I love him,” Emmy said. “In spite of his monumental flaws, he is a caring man.”

  He is a thief of a high order, Gisela thought to herself. Even if he does dote on Emmy.

  “Our men are already successful,” Gisela said. “My Hennie is Chancellor of the German Reich. Herr Goering is the Reichsmarshall. Together they held things together after Himmler’s death.”

  “I believe the historians will see this as their finest hour. Herr Schloss did what was necessary to save the Reich and Hermann stood by him.”

  “True enough,” Gisela said. “Hennie was modest about it. He said he merely did what he had to do.”

  Emmy shook her head. “No, it was more than that. Much more.”

  “He said Herr Goering was courageous.”

  “Hermann was only courageous after Herr Schloss blew out Himmler’s brains. I suppose what I wish to say is that I have encouraged my husband to do everything he can to make the chancellor successful. I do not believe Hermann would survive otherwise.”

  “You are being very honest,” Gisela said.

  “I do not want to lose him. Is that being selfish?”

  There is no question in my mind that you are as mercenary as he, Gisela thought.

  “I think we are all selfish regarding those who are closest to us.”

  “That is very true.”

  Gisela found her way back to the sitting room where the wives, girlfriends and mistresses of the party officials entertained one another. Renate raised an eyebrow when they saw each other. Except for Renate, Gisela had discovered that the wives and mistresses were every bit as political and manipulating as their men. Upon reflection, she decided she was as well.

  Renate was much more straightforward. She was totally dedicated to the advancement of her husband and brother. But she was much like her brother Heinrich in that she went about things with a brutal honesty. And wherever she went she was feared and respected.

  As the men contemplated the remnants of their tobacco and liquor, a Luftwaffe Colonel eased into the room and slipped over next to Goering. Goering leaned over to listen to the message and immediately looked at Schloss.

  “Herr Reichschancellor, may I have a moment?”

  Schloss nodded and followed Goering and the Colonel to a door along one side of the room. He stepped through into an expansive office. The room was lined with oak panels and bookshelves. A fire blazed in the hearth in the corner.

  “Yes, what is it, Hermann?” Schloss asked.

  Goering looked at the Colonel.

  “Herr Reichschancellor, Herr Reichsmarshall, the English have mounted a bombing raid into the Fatherland tonight. Mein Herren, the likely target is Berlin.”

  “How much time do we have?” Schloss asked.

  “Perhaps an hour. We were late in detecting them.”

  Schloss swore. “And this is Christmas Eve for the Christians. Half of Berlin will be in the churches. What were the English thinking?”

  “This could be very bad,” Goering said. “I suggest we call the RLB and sound the air raid warnings in the city. We must get the people under cover.”

  “Agreed,” Schloss said. “Make it so. Have the defensive squadrons been alerted?”

  The colonel nodded uncomfortably. “Yes, although there is a problem.”

  “What is the problem?”

  The colonel looked at Goering, who then looked at Shloss.

  “Herr Schloss, I accept the responsibility.”

  “That’s fine, Hermann,” Schloss said. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

  “Our intelligence indicated the English were standing down over the Yuletide. We released a large portion of the armed forces for leave through the weekend.”

  Schloss frowned severely and looked around the room. “Very well. Please get me Rainer at the SS on the telephone.”

  Goering nodded at the colonel who walked over to the telephone on the desk. A few moments later he handed the receiver to Schloss.

  “Karl?”

  “Yes, Herr Reichschancellor?”

  “The English are flying tonight. Please see to the safety of my children.”

  “At once, Herr Reichschancellor.”

  Schloss hung up and turned to Goering. “I assume you have a bunker here?”

  Goering nodded. “Of course, Herr Reichschancellor.”

  “The English, having caught us with our trousers around our ankles, may also know that most of the government is at Carinhall tonight.”

  Goering paled. “Surely not!”

  “Are you willing to bet your life, Herr R
eichsmarshall? This gathering was not exactly arranged in secret.”

  “I take your point. We might be wise to move our gathering to the bunker for a couple of hours.”

  “Lead the way, Herr Goering.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  December 25, 1941; 8 AM

  Berlin, Germany

  A sullen sky looked down upon the previous night’s onslaught. Snowflakes danced lightly around the scene, but did nothing to erase the mood. The icy winter wind stole the vapor away from Schloss as he exhaled. Surrounded by a group of Nazi Party guards, he stood in front of a church which was demolished during the English bombing raid. Rescue workers still struggled to fish bodies out of the wreckage. The church had fortunately not burned. Schloss had his black leather coat buttoned and tightly belted against the cold. He grimaced and looked up at the low overcast.

  The weather had been uniformly dreary for a couple of weeks. The English had apparently decided to drop their bomb loads blindly through the clouds – for whatever reason. Three-hundred-seventy-eight Berliners paid for a lack of caution with their lives.

  After months of calm, the people had treated the sirens as simply more of the repeated tests of the civil defense system. They had gone about their Christmas Eve celebrations in the churches and in their homes without concern. The bombings had shocked the city and angered the military.

  “Let’s get back to the Reichschancellory,” he said to Alden Schlempke, the head of his personal guard force. “There is nothing more we can do here. The futures of these poor people are out of our hands.”

  Schlempke jumped to attention and gave a quick, sharp nod. Schloss had forbade their salutes in routine day to day activities.

  “Very well, Herr Reichschancellor.”