Amber (12 page)

Huertgenwald Forest

Professor pointed to
the hand drawn map of a lake as the others crowded around. Just as he was about to comment on it, they heard a noise coming from farther up the hillside. A high-pitched howling. Maddock turned his head, scanning the area, but saw nothing. “Animal, not human,” he said, relieved that Wagner wasn’t stalking them unseen from the foliage.

“What kind of animal?” Leopov asked.

As if in response, the call came again, louder this time. Closer. Bones cocked an ear toward the source of the howling. “Wolf?”

At the mention of the word the others became quiet. The howling grew more constant, higher in pitch.

“Better a wolf than Wagner.” Willis glared up the slope.

“Let’s head down.” Maddock turned around, seeking a path to follow that led to lower ground. He caught movement in a clump of foliage about thirty feet further down. He raised a hand. “Hold up.”

“What is it?” Leopov halted next to him, also looking down the hill.

“Not sure yet. Something’s down there, though. Either another wolf, or ...Wagner?”

The group stood stock still, Bones and Willis still staring up the hill toward the known wolf, while Maddock, Professor and Leopov had eyes down toward the new, unknown presence.

“I see it!” Bones called out. “It’s coming down!”

“Holy...it’s huge!” Willis sounded positively amazed, like a kid in a zoo seeing a rhino for the first time. “Wait a minute... That’s not a wolf; it’s a bear, right?”

Bones shook his head. “It is about the size of a bear, but it’s a wolf. Look at the head. And the body, too. It’s a huge freakin’ wolf.”

“And it’s moving this way!”

Maddock still hadn’t gotten a good look at whatever waited down below, but when he turned to see what had Bones and Willis so excited, he immediately started down the slope. “It might feel threatened by us encroaching on its territory. Maybe if we head down a ways, it’ll calm down.” But no sooner had he finished his sentence than another wolf, just as large as the one above, emerged from the clump of plants below Maddock, who skidded to a stop on the hill.

“Whoa, got another one down here. Wow, I didn’t know wolves got that big!”

“Whose awesome idea was it not to bring firearms, again?” Professor lamented.

“That would be Admiral Liptow’s.” Willis turned in a slow circle so as to monitor both beasts as well as to keep an eye out for more.

“Part of our cover to be able to use civilian transport without hitting any snags.” Professor didn’t sound too happy about it. Bones removed a fixed blade knife from the sheath he wore on his belt.

“I’ve got this.”

The other SEALs all had blades, too, although some were only small folding knives. Professor glanced around at their minimal armament. “Not sure what these would actually do versus the teeth those things must have.”

“And claws,” Leopov added.

Professor paused while watching the foliage bounce around as the creature moved unseen beneath it, not far above them. “How did these things get so big, anyway?”

“Stay put.” Maddock concentrated on the animal below them, tracking its movements carefully. Professor did so, opening the pages of the leather-bound journal and turning to the page with the hand drawn wolf.

Bones still couldn’t get over the size of the canine as he caught a glimpse of it running through a patch of brambles. “I have
never
seen any kind of dog that big. Ever. Even those...what are they? Newfoundlands? Not as big. And wolves? Definitely not as big. But these sure look like wolves. Just really ridiculously huge ones. I’m pretty sure my head doesn’t even come up to that thing’s neck, and I’m taller than most people.”

In the stunned silence that followed they heard the rasp of a page turning. Willis turned to Professor. “Yo Chapman, call me crazy, but maybe you can find some other time to catch up on your reading?”

Professor responded while Maddock and the others circled in place, hyper-wary of the two gigantic wolves circling them. “Looks like that wolf drawing in here was pretty accurate after all.” He glanced up at the wolf above them, its massive head protruding out of the top of bushes ten feet high before retreating back into cover. Professor eyed the book again. “The man stands chest high to the wolf.”

“Coincidence?” Maddock took a step to the left, neither up nor down, and frowned as the wolf below them tracked his movement with its own step in the same direction.

Professor shrugged as he turned a page in the book. “Well, wolves are pretty common in these types of environments,” he said, looking around at the forested hillside. “The only thing is, it looks like, according to this German soldier’s journal, that the Nazis were doing something with wolves.”

Leopov shook her head. “That doesn’t necessarily mean much. Hitler’s infamous east Prussian lair —not all that far from our present location-- was nicknamed the
Wolfsschanze
, derived from the word wolf, no doubt an intentional metaphor. Also, it is well known that the Nazis held wolves, and dogs—especially German Shepherds—in high esteem. In fact, Hitler owned a famous shepherd named Blondi. Some say it was to foster a softer image as an animal lover, but those close to him reported that the dog really was his best friend and accompanied him everywhere, even into his bunk at night.”

Suddenly both wolves shifted from the constant howls they had been emitting to a series of lower-pitched barks and yelps. Their movements, however, did not seem to change, and they remained close by.

“Whatever happened to Hitler’s dog?” Bones asked. Willis rolled his eyes at his question, or more precisely, at his curiosity about such a thing in the face of imminent danger.

Leopov knelt in the high grass while she kept a laser-like focus on the wolf below them, as did Maddock. “Near the end, when the Red Army was closing in and Hitler began to explore suicide options in the event he was about to be taken prisoner, he tested one of his cyanide pills on Blondi, concerned it wouldn’t work and he would be captured by the Russians alive. It did work, though, and word has it that personnel in the bunker were more upset over that dog’s death than they were by that of his wife, Eva Braun.”

Even Professor was intrigued enough by the history to look away from the journal long enough to eye Leopov while nodding. “Yeah, and didn’t that dog Blondi have puppies?”

Leopov smiled and her eyes widened. “Yes, and in fact he named one
Wulf.”

Professor gazed back down at the pages in his hands. “The name
Adolf
itself...It means...”

“Noble wolf.” Leopov turned away from the lupine threat long enough to gauge Professor’s reaction. He was eyeballing the journal intently now, brow furrowed, finger tracing the words on the pages as he flipped them back and forth, translating the old German as best he could.

“It says here they had some kind of breeding program with wolves, or dogs, not sure...maybe between wolves and dogs, is that possible?”

Suddenly the wolf at the higher elevation descended on them, leaping to a spot only two feet away from Bones, who unbelievably held his ground while the others backed away slowly. Bones brandished his knife in one hand and stood stock still as he faced off with the oversized predator. He noted that its jowls were reddish with blood, as though it had recently fed. But it was the sheer size of the wolf that dumbfounded them all.

Bones’ head only came up to the shoulders of the beast, which crouched back in a threatening manner, growling and drooling. “Don’t make any sudden moves,” Bones said in a calm, quiet voice. “We won’t win against these two dogs in a fight. Our best bet is not to antagonize them and don’t act like prey.”

No one said anything, and so Bones asked, “What’s the other one doing?” He didn’t dare take his eyes from the dog next to him.

Maddock responded. “It backed off a bit down the hill.”

They heard that wolf cry suddenly, a sharp, piercing vocalization that put the other giant canine on edge. Bones’ hand shifted ever so slightly and his knife blade caught a gleam of sunlight, accidentally reflecting it into the wolf’s eyes. The sudden stab of light enraged the predator, which lunged for the hand that wielded the metal. He sidestepped the charging behemoth and lashed out with his knife, managing to slash a tendon on the wolf’s right foreleg. The entire attack was oddly silent, with neither the wolf nor Bones making any noise. It happened so fast that Maddock and the others still faced down toward the other animal, turning to look up only when the sound of the wolf’s blood dripping onto dry leaf litter reach their ears.

“Bones!” Maddock hissed. The Indian now tread in a circle while the gigantic dog did the same.

“Bones, be very careful.” This from Professor. “You’re a good fighter but that’s a wolf the size of a pony.”

“Don’t have much choice here, Prof.” Bones continued to do a sort of war dance with the beast, circling, stopping, and then resuming the motion.

And then the other wolf leaped into the midst of the group, seemingly from out of nowhere below them. Even though it had to jump up to reach them, it landed squarely on both Willis and Professor, narrowly missing Leopov, who skipped to the side just in time.

Professor and Willis both yelled at the same time, guttural screams of both surprise and pain. Maddock reacted swiftly, flinging himself at the attacking beast’s flank, shanking it with a small folding knife. The animal yelped and rolled hard away from Maddock, toppling over Willis who got both legs under the dog’s belly and heaved it off of him. The wolf landed on the ground next to them but quickly wriggled back to its feet. Apparently it had had enough, though, because it slinked off into the foliage where it lay whimpering and licking its wound.

Bones struck at the other dog in his circling standoff, the blade finding only air but fast and forceful enough to make the animal hesitant. Professor stepped closer to the fight, watching for the moment but prepared to step in should Bones need help. Maddock spoke to the group in a calm voice while Bones and the wolf circled.

“Listen up, people. We still need to get down off this hillside and back into town so we can regroup and continue our mission. If we make our way laterally until we reach that ravine over there...” He pointed and everyone but Bones looked. “...we should be able to follow it down to the valley floor and from there it’s only a few clicks back to the parking area.”

“Looks like the wolf you injured is nursing its wounds down the hill and probably won’t bother us for now,” Professor said, monitoring the wounded beast’s progress as it faded into the undergrowth, “but what about the one here?”

Bones feinted with the knife and the dog growled in return. Maddock stepped closer to the human-wolf confrontation. “If all four of us charge it while it’s preoccupied with Bones, I think we can ram into its side hard enough to send it running. What do you think?”

No one said anything until Willis stepped up alongside Maddock.

“Let’s do this.” Professor reluctantly stepped into the fold. Last was Leopov, who silently walked up next to Maddock, carrying a stout length of tree limb.

“On three.” Maddock dug his feet into the earth while the big wolf snapped at Bones, narrowly missing the hand with the knife.

“One...”

The wolf below them continued to whimper out of sight in the greenery.

“Two...”

“Head down, shoulder squared, like you’re a linebacker,” Willis said, steeling himself.

“Three!” Maddock took off like a shot, the others along with him. The four of them impacted the wolf in its side as it circled around Bones. Maddock’s head collided with the beast a little above its underbelly and he found it to be surprisingly hard, all muscle. Still, with three other heads besides his colliding with the creature, the effect was to knock the wolf back. It didn’t fall, though, but stumbled onto two legs before prancing up again.

Bones raised a knife as he turned toward the beast but then lowered it. He had no desire to harm the animal if it wasn’t absolutely necessary, only to preserve his own life and that of his team. He kicked the wolf instead, causing it to teeter again after nearly righting itself. Willis joined him with a flying kick and the mighty canine toppled onto its side with a sharp cry.

“Now!” Maddock retreated toward the ravine he had indicated. “Let’s make our move.”

The operators made their way quickly out of the area, leaving the mega-wolves behind. Bones walked backward to make sure the predators didn’t take up chase, but the predators hung back where they were, watching but not pursuing.

Professor shook his head as they reached the ravine and headed down into it. “Could those wolves be one of Hitler’s lasting legacies?”

Maddock halted to glance about the surrounding countryside before slipping into the ravine where the view would be lost. “Let’s just hope there aren’t very many of them.”

Auerswalde

George Wagner exited
the thrift shop wearing his new tweed jacket, a fedora, and, more importantly, carrying his new bag. He wasn’t a fan of man-purses, but needed something large enough to fit the amber clock, and a briefcase was too slim. He’d considered duffel bags or backpacks, but decided that they looked out of place for him and would only draw attention to the fact that he was carrying something large and cumbersome.

Stopping at the store cost him time, but he couldn’t very well be seen waltzing around town carrying a lost treasure out in the open, now could he? He was tempted to call a cab, but decided against it. Phone calls and being seen by drivers would leave a bigger footprint if and when anyone came looking for him. He would walk across town to his car, and then get the hell out of the city. He had everything he needed.

He glanced across the street and then to the left before turning right and heading up the sidewalk with purpose. He passed a sidewalk cafe crowded with patrons. One of them, a man sitting by himself reading a newspaper, looked up at him and then flagged down a server. Wagner didn’t recognize the man.
Is he asking for the check so he can leave to follow me? Did he recognize me?

The historian put a little more pep into his step, but not so much that he would seem suspicious, a past-his-prime man in ordinary street clothes speed-walking through town. He certainly wasn’t known for any kind of regular exercise. A half-block later he turned to look back and there was the man from the table, now standing on the sidewalk and looking in his direction.
He’s following me!

Wagner nearly panicked and broke into a run, but a door opened in front of him, some kind of business on his right, and he stepped inside to whatever it might be. He was horrified to hear someone call his name.

“Afternoon, Mr. Wagner, and how are you today?”

Wagner turned to look at the proprietor of the shop, and realized he had turned right into his dry cleaners. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment at being caught so unawares. “Ah, hello, Gertrude! I’m well enough indeed, and yourself?” Wagner quickly turned away from the shopkeeper to glance out the window even though he knew there was no way the man from the cafe could have gotten here yet.

“I’m as good as an old woman can be. I wasn’t expecting you for a couple of more days, but I do believe most of your things are ready. Give me one minute, I’ll check...” The woman doddered off into the back room of the business. Wagner cursed his bad luck. He actually had garments in here to be cleaned and now he was going to have to carry them around or appear most strange indeed.

He was debating whether he should simply leave the shop now, but thought the man from the cafe—
my tail
—was probably about to reach the dry cleaners, if he’d been walking this way.

“And here we are!” The dry cleaner came out from the back and hung several plastic-bagged garments from a rack on the counter. “You have six in but only these four are ready now. Next time if you let me know you need a rush...”

“It’s quite all right, Gertrude. I’ll take these now and come back for the rest.” Wagner paid the woman and collected his clothes. This might not be so bad a way to blend in after all, he thought, draping the clean articles over his newly acquired man-bag.

He exited the shop and immediately looked left, to see if the man from the cafe was in sight. But he was nowhere to be seen. Just as he turned right to continue down the sidewalk, a black four-door sedan with tinted windows pulled up to the curb, fast. The rear door opened and a man—not the one from the cafe-- got out so quickly that it stunned Wagner like a deer in headlights. The individual was tall, fit, and sported close-cropped blonde hair with black sunglasses. He wore a leather trench coat.

“Come with us, please.”

“What? No!” But although his words protested, Wagner allowed himself to be wheeled around on the sidewalk by the man from the car, and then a second man, also very large and well built, was there, pulling on him with one hand while beckoning inside the car with the other. Both men were smiling. Wagner could not help but notice, most likely for the benefit of whoever might be witnessing this abduction. Just a couple of old friends trying to convince an always busy chum to come with them for a round at the pub.

Inside the car, Wagner was sandwiched between his two kidnappers as the driver, invisible behind a dark-tinted partition, accelerated out into traffic. “What—what’s going on?” Wagner stammered.

The man on his right, the slightly larger of the two and the first one who’d jumped out of the car to accost him, replied in German that was tinged with a Russian accent, although Wagner missed this nuance due to his adrenaline-spiked fear.

“What are you carrying?”

Wagner looked down at the clothes draped over his bag. “It’s just my dry cleaning! What is the meaning of this?”

The man on his left smiled. He too wore his hair closely cropped, almost buzzed, and wore sunglasses even though it wasn’t sunny out. He reached over to Wagner, lifted the clothing and tossed it onto the floor.

“Nice purse. Open it.”

Wagner’s face was crimson. He trembled with rage. “Who are you people?”

The man on the left grabbed the bag and held it in his lap while the one on the right placed a firm grip on Wagner’s right arm. Meanwhile the car had cleared traffic and now cruised at the speed limit out of town.

“We will be asking the questions today.” The man on the left pulled the amber clock from the bag and held it out for his associate to see.

“Exquisite!” Wagner’s captor on the left tore his gaze from the clock and made eye contact with him. He withdrew a neck knife that Wagner had mistaken for a necklace.

“Now...you will tell us everything you know.”