The Nazi's Engineer Read online

  He nodded. “Yup. It was abandoned at the end of the war. Google is just showing green. Looks like there’s nothing there at all.”

  “But it did exist.”

  “Yup.”

  Acton paused. “Wait. Where is it? Germany’s no longer Germany.”

  “Poland.”

  Acton’s eyes narrowed. “Poland? Why would they hide their gold in Poland?”

  Laura shook her head. “You’re fixated on gold.”

  “I like gold.”

  “Uh huh.” She tilted her head toward Tommy. “Where in Poland?”

  “South of Gdansk.”

  A smile spread on Acton’s face, and Laura’s. “Formerly known as Danzig, a major city in what was formerly known as Prussia.”

  Tommy’s eyes narrowed. “What’s Prussia? Some sort of Russian offshoot?”

  “There were tight ties before the Russian Revolution, of course, but what’s important here is that Prussia was traditionally German. That means that it is plausible the Nazis would hide something on Prussian territory, thinking that even if they lost the war, it would remain German.”

  “Boy were they wrong.”

  Acton agreed. “Who do we know in Poland?”

  Laura thought for a moment. “What about Professor Lisowski? She’s always asking us to visit. This would be a golden opportunity to meet her in person finally, and satisfy your curiosity.”

  Acton grinned. “Road trip!”

  “I’ll take a plane.”

  “Suit yourself.” He stared once again at the translation. “It would be nice to get some answers, but also perhaps provide some closure to these families. I wonder if there’s some way to track them down.”

  “Found them.”

  Acton’s eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”

  Tommy held up his notebook. “I already found them. Everything’s computerized now, which means there’s no way to keep anything secret from me.” He flashed a toothy smile at Mai, who giggled.

  Acton shook his head, the boy’s skills never ceasing to amaze him. “If you broke any laws, then I don’t want to know.” He rose. “We should make plans to leave right away.”

  Laura pulled out her phone. “I’ll call our agent and have her get the jet ready.”

  Tommy cleared his throat, raising a finger. “Umm, professors, ahh, can we come?”

  Acton stared at him for a moment, then looked at Laura, who shrugged. “Why not?”

  “You’re right, why not.” Acton thought for a second. “But how about this? There are two things we’re trying to accomplish here, and we don’t have a lot of time to do it, since classes resume in a week. Laura and I will go to Poland to see if there’s anything in this mine, and you two go to Germany and see if you can track down the two families. Have copies made of the pertinent documents so you can give them to the descendants of the victims, and if we find something at the mine, we can share that information with them as well. It did say one of the engineers was missing and presumed dead. I have a sneaking suspicion we’re going to find his body with his train.”

  5

  South of Marienwerder, West Prussia

  Nazi Germany

  January 28, 1945

  SS Colonel Friedrich Steiner watched the locomotive back out of the chamber. He shouted at the men unloading the already arrived boxcars to hurry up, then waved off another crew heading for the newly delivered cargo.

  “Leave those be!”

  The men stared at him for a moment, then returned to help the others. He could tell they were curious why these two cars weren’t to be touched, but he didn’t care. It was none of their business, and he didn’t owe them an explanation.

  Though perhaps it didn’t matter if they knew.

  He turned to see the lamps of the locomotive now gone, its engine still echoing through the chamber. He beckoned his second-in-command to join him.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “As soon as they’re finished, execute them.”

  His second-in-command’s eyes widened for a moment, but he snapped back to attention. “Yes, sir!”

  Steiner pointed at three of his men. “You three, come with me.” He strode briskly after the locomotive, and shook his head as someone shouted for the idiot to turn off his lights, their beams a beacon for Allied air power in the pitch dark.

  He emerged into the frigid cold of a Prussian winter, but suppressed the shiver, never one to let his men see any sign of weakness. He turned on his flashlight, the beam slicing through the night, though not carrying far, just enough to make sure he didn’t twist an ankle on the uneven ground. He spotted the engineer leaning out his window.

  “Get down!”

  There was hesitation, as if the man sensed something not to his liking was about to happen.

  And he was right.

  The plan had never been to allow him to leave alive. He needed a trustworthy, reliable man—either through loyalty to the Führer and the Party, or, as in this case, through leverage—who could be counted on not to speak to anyone of his priority mission.

  And now that his job was done, his life was forfeit.

  As was everyone’s here.

  There could be no witnesses to what had just taken place. The priceless artifacts transported here over the past several days would be safe, but only as long as no one knew where they were.

  And that meant no witnesses who had seen the crates, could be left alive.

  Including this engineer.

  “Sir?”

  “Now!”

  He motioned to his men, and they all raised their weapons, aiming them at the cab of the massive locomotive. Gunshots erupted from the tunnel entrance as his men executed his orders, the crew inside evidently finished their task.

  Unfortunate timing.

  The sound of the engine changed, and the wheels screeched as they spun, the train reversing as the engineer apparently realized he was about to die. Steiner pointed at the cab and his men opened fire, their MP35 submachine guns pumping lead as the train slowly pulled away. Windows shattered and bullets ricocheted, but there was no evidence they had found their mark, and the train continued to pick up speed.

  He rushed ahead, drawing his weapon, and leaped onto the side of the train, hauling himself up. He slipped on the built-up ice, his feet dragging along the ground, and he regretted having drawn his weapon before securing his footing. Dangling by one hand, he shoved his Luger back in its holster, then dragged himself onto the running board. Stable, he drew his weapon and thrust his head through the shattered window, his pistol leading the way. He couldn’t see the engineer. He pulled out his flashlight, shining it into the cab.

  And spotted him on the other side.

  “Halt!”

  The engineer spun toward him, raising his hands. “Please, don’t! I swear I won’t tell anyone what I saw!”

  Steiner chuckled. “You’re right about that.”

  He fired three shots into the man, his victim collapsing in a heap in the corner. He opened the door and stepped inside, staring at the controls for a moment before taking a guess at what were the brakes.

  He was right.

  He shone his flashlight on the man’s face, still alive, though not for long, and wondered what his final thoughts were.

  Probably of his wife.

  He jumped down to the ground as the train came to a halt, making a note that the wife should be picked up.

  After all, we can’t have anyone speaking ill of the Reich.

  6

  South of Kwidzyn (formerly Marienwerder), Poland

  Present Day

  Professor James Acton stared at the sight before them. Or lack thereof. It was an empty field with a good-sized hill, and no evidence whatsoever that anything had ever been here. He was beginning to think they were on a wild goose chase, though it wouldn’t be the first time what appeared to be a blank canvas was merely time healing the earth of the scars man had inflicted upon it.

  Professor Aleksandra Lisowski sighed. “And you�
��re sure this is the place?”

  Laura Palmer nodded. “Absolutely. Assuming the letter was telling the truth.”

  Acton pursed his lips. “I doubt he’d lie. But there was a mine here, right?”

  Lisowski held up a printout of some official records from before the war, clearly showing there had been a mine at this location. “The records don’t lie.”

  Acton smiled at her. “Oh, how much I have to teach you, my friend!”

  Lisowski laughed. “Yeah, you’re right. I just sounded as foolish as one of my students.”

  Laura stepped toward the hillside. “You know, if there was an old mine here, there should be some evidence of it. The old entrance, railroad tracks, maybe some old buildings. But there’s nothing.”

  Acton grunted. “I think that’s the point, isn’t it? We must be in the wrong place.”

  Laura shook her head. “No, you’re missing the point.”

  Acton smiled. “Enlighten me.”

  “I shall.” She winked at Lisowski. “If I were trying to hide the fact I hid something in an old mine, I would try to hide the fact that there was even a mine in the first place.”

  Acton’s eyes widened. “You mean it’s sitting right in front of us, purposefully hidden.”

  “Exactly.”

  Acton’s disappointment at his initial assessment was shoved aside as renewed hope fueled him. He grabbed a metal detector from the back of their SUV, and headed for the side of the hill as he fit the headphones in place. He quickly scanned for any signs of metal, forcing himself to slow down, as Laura and Lisowski waited behind him, having a conversation he couldn’t hear.

  The indicator jumped, and the device wailed in his ears.

  “I’ve got something! Bring me a shovel.”

  He continued scanning the area, the hits almost constant, the fact something was behind the dirt in front of him now indisputable. Lisowski approached with a shovel.

  “Where?”

  Acton pointed. “Right in front of me. The whole area seems to be giving indications of metal.”

  Lisowski began digging as Acton continued to scan the hillside, just in case his initial discovery proved to be nothing. He found several more minor hits, but nothing like his initial find.

  The shovel scraped something, ending his search.

  “Huh? What’s this?”

  Acton rushed back to where Lisowski had been digging, Laura already using a spade to clear more dirt away. “What is it?”

  Laura stood back, a smile on her face. “It looks like a cinderblock wall, perhaps with rebar inside to reinforce it.”

  Acton grinned at the ladies. “Sounds to me like somebody might be trying to hide something!”

  Lisowski tapped her shovel against the wall now facing them. “I think we’re going to need a bigger shovel.”

  7

  South of Marienwerder, West Prussia

  Nazi Germany

  January 29, 1945

  “Wake up!”

  Dieter Maier woke, still tired. He stretched and executed an exaggerated yawn before opening his eyes. As far as he was concerned, whoever wanted him here on such short notice, could wait. He had a four-day pass, and was supposed to be on a train for home right now. Instead, he’d been driven—yes, driven!—for almost two hours in the dead of night, dawn just cracking the horizon.

  Hopefully the others got away.

  Four of them had been given leave passes, though only after two trains had run into each other last week, the engineer asleep at the controls.

  They were exhausted.

  They all were. With the war going poorly, no matter what Goebbels and his radio broadcasts would suggest, there were fewer and fewer engineers as the Allies shot up more of the trains as they closed in on the Fatherland.

  Defeat couldn’t come soon enough. He was tired of the war, had already lost a son to the Russian Front, and had sent his only remaining son to stay with relatives outside of the city, with orders to keep him out of sight.

  They were drafting boys now.

  And his son, indoctrinated by the Hitler Youth, would eagerly volunteer.

  I just pray that Renatta can keep him from doing anything stupid.

  If he knew anyone in the west of the country, he’d have sent him farther, but he didn’t. The idea of living under Russian control terrified him, and his repeated requests for transfer to the western routes, were always denied.

  Once you were assigned to the east, you were fated to die in the east.

  And every run he took was another chance to fulfill the belief.

  Which was another reason four days off with his wife would have been a blessing. He had every intention of keeping the neighbors up all night as he worked off several months of pent-up frustrations, but he also just wanted to sleep in his bed with his wife in his arms, and the war something in the distance.

  A fairytale, he knew—the Allied bombers were decimating Berlin.

  “Are you waiting for the Führer himself to invite you?”

  He opened his eyes, having drifted off again. “Is he here?”

  The driver grunted. “Careful, friend. This place is swarming with SS, and they don’t have a sense of humor.”

  Dieter tensed, finally taking in his surroundings, a chill sweeping over him that went beyond the frosty air filling the interior of the car, heaters a luxury during a gas shortage. His driver was right. At least a couple of dozen soldiers were spread out around the exterior of the old mine.

  And not a single worker.

  Something was going on here, and if it involved the SS, he wanted nothing to do with it. Unfortunately, the fact he was here, and the fact an SS colonel was marching toward them, meant he was already involved, whether he liked it or not.

  Just keep your head down and your mouth shut.

  He scrambled out of the car and stood at his best impression of attention as he could.

  “Good luck, my friend,” whispered the driver as he reversed the car quickly. The kind words were delivered with a finality that suggested he not only needed it, but it was offered uselessly.

  No amount of luck would save him.

  The colonel came to a halt directly in front of him, his eyes piercing, Dieter making a point to keep his chin high, his eyes directed upward, over the man’s head and his jet-black uniform. “Engineer Dieter Maier reporting as ordered, sir!”

  “It’s about time! You’re over an hour late.”

  “I apologize, sir. I was at the mercy of my driver, and he to the weather.”

  The colonel grunted, a growl threatening to erupt, before he spun on his heel, heading toward a locomotive that sat inside the fence surrounding the mine.

  “Are you coming?”

  “Yes, sir!” He scrambled after the man, his heart pounding.

  The colonel pointed at the locomotive. “Take this back to the yard.”

  His eyes narrowed as they approached the over 80 tons of metal. “Where’s the engineer who brought it here?”

  The colonel’s head snapped around, his glare emasculating. “There are no questions to be asked, understood?”

  Maier dropped his gaze to the ground. “Y-yes, sir. I apologize, sir!”

  He stopped in his tracks when he finally reached the front of the locomotive. Dozens of bullets scarred the exterior, and several of the windows were shattered. His jaw dropped as he was about to ask what happened.

  He snapped it shut.

  “Polish partisans.”

  “Huh?”

  The colonel pointed at the locomotive. “Polish partisans attacked the mine last night. Killed the engineer and a few of the miners. They were stopped and executed.” The colonel spit on the ground. “A fruitless effort. The mine was just closed, so they accomplished nothing.”

  They killed one of my colleagues, so they did something.

  “What was his name?”

  “Who?”

  “The engineer who died.”

  “I have no idea, and you aren’t to ask any q
uestions. His death is not to be discussed with anyone, understood?”

  “Y-yes, sir. I doubt anyone will ask, anyway. Engineers are dying and being reassigned every day. I’m sure no one will notice except those who need to know.”

  The colonel assessed him for a moment then grunted, pointing toward the locomotive. “Get it out of here, and make it quick.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Dieter climbed up into the cab and gulped. Blood was everywhere, apparently little if any effort made at cleaning it up. He checked the controls, and nothing seemed damaged. It was still at idle, so he should be able to leave within minutes. He turned and nearly cried out when he saw the colonel’s head sticking through the shattered window.

  “Is everything in order?”

  Dieter nodded. “Y-yes, sir. I should be leaving momentarily.”

  “Good. Discuss with no one what you saw here today, or even the fact you were here.” He jabbed a gloved finger at him. “And should you ignore my warnings, remember this. Not only will your life be forfeit, but your family’s as well.”

  The colonel disappeared from the window, leaving Dieter shaking from terror and the cold.

  And consumed with the thought of his wife and son.

  8

  South of Kwidzyn (formerly Marienwerder), Poland

  Present Day

  James Acton could barely control his giddiness. It had taken several hours for the heavy equipment to arrive, a backhoe now making quick work of the hillside, the couple of hours of shovel work he had put into it now appearing a fool’s errand.

  The teeth on the bucket finally sank into the dirt behind the cinderblock wall, and the operator expertly pulled it down, the wall collapsing outward, revealing a dark cavern behind it. Acton desperately wanted to rush right in, but it was still too dangerous. The crew chief directed his operator to move the downed wall away from the entrance, and when he was done, two city engineers tentatively stepped inside, inspecting the remaining structure for stability.