A Gentleman’S Finale

By Robert Merritt

The events in the concluding book of the Gentleman trilogy take place after World War II. Former spies, Philip and Monica Carlisle are on holiday in Argentina. They are outraged to discover that Heinz Kepplemann, a fugitive Nazi war criminal has escaped to South America. The couple are determined to bring the Hangman of the Rhone Valley to justice. The American couple find themselves in a web of deceit, espionage, and betrayal in the murky atmosphere of the Cold War.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Apr 13, 2018
• ISBN: 9781546237884

Robert Merritt

Robert S. Merritt is a retired educator from Massachusetts. Writing has always called to him and now he is living that dream he and his wife Kathy make their home in Lakeland, FL.

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© 2018 Robert Merritt. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 04/11/2018

ISBN: 978-1-5462-3789-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-3788-4 (e)

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CONTENTS

Chapter-1

Chapter-2

Chapter-3

Chapter-4

Chapter-5

Chapter-6

Chapter-7

Chapter-8

Chapter-9

Chapter-10

CHAPTER-1

T he aircraft touched down at the Tempelhof airdrome outside of Berlin. Haupsturmfuher Heinz Kepplemann stared at the depressing landscape; Berlin was a city in ruins. Relentless Allied bombing raids had reduced the capital of the Third Reich to rubble. Kepplemann frowned as he contemplated the reason for his visit. He had been unexpectedly recalled from his posting in Lyon, France. There he led the campaign to destroy the French resistance the so-called Maquis. Captain Kepplemann smiled as he remembered the long list of successes he won there. The Maquis was in tatters today. The Allied invasion of France, first at Normandy in June then in southern France in August, triggered a wave of attacks by the resistance. Heinz Kepplemann moved ruthlessly to suppress the Maquis in southern France. Heinz Kepplemann had promptly seized hostages of all ages and threatened to execute them if there was any further resistance. His heavily armed troops swept the countryside day and night. They hunted bands of resistance fighters going directly into the mountainous regions where the Maquis groups liked to hide. Captain Kepplemann was as hard on his own men as on the enemy. He pushed combat operations to a successful conclusion regardless of causalities. These tactics intimidated the majority of the residents in the Rhone River Valley. The military superiority of the Allies though, proved too much for the German forces in France. Despite Kepplemann’s best efforts, the resistance fighters continued to make things difficult for the retreating German units. The Wehrmacht commanders in an effort to cover their own incompetence, tried to blame Kepplemann for the difficulties the German Army was encountering, he seethed. The army insisted that Kepplemann be removed from his command. The result was that now The Hangman of the Rhone Valley was ordered to present himself at the headquarters of the Sicherheitsdienst, the Reich Security Service. A car with a driver waited to escort Haupsturmfuher Kepplemann to SS headquarters. Heinz Kepplemann was received by a Colonel on the staff of the commanding officer of the Reich Security Central Office (RSHA). Colonel Eric Martz welcomed Kepplemann with a firm handshake. Martz waved his visitor to a seat. Colonel Martz shivered as he gazed at his visitor. Heinz Kepplemann had always reminded Martz of an insect. His tall, thin body with the gaunt face, hooded eyes, and thin lips were typical of a predator. Heinz Kepplemann always looked as if he might suddenly strike and kill without warning. These characteristics were valuable in the SS. Kepplemann’s reputation for ruthlessness made him notorious in the Reich Security Service.

‘Welcome my old friend’ Eric Martz boomed. ‘It is good to see you again Kepplemann.’ Colonel Martz wasted no time getting down to business. ‘I have new orders for you Captain.’ Eric Martz handed over a sheet of paper. ‘You are going to Czechoslovakia to command anti-partisan operations there. The Soviets are pushing into this region and now the rats are popping up everywhere. We need a firm hand to restore order to the area. You will take over Einsatzgruppen #301 based near Plzen. The army commanders need their communications to be secured. You are authorized to use whatever measures you deem necessary to complete your mission.’ Colonel Martz frowned, ‘this time the army will not be allowed to blame the SS for their own failures.’ Eric Martz folded his hands on the desktop. ‘I think your performance in Lyon was excellent. You nearly broke the back of the resistance there. The enemy landings galvanized the people to keep fighting. You and your men cannot be blamed for that. The Wehrmacht command is desperate to escape responsibility for the disaster in France. Now that the army has disgraced itself in the attempt to murder our Fuhrer they will stop at nothing to avoid blame.’ Colonel Martz’s eyes glittered as he spoke, ‘Muller and his Gestapo agents are doing a superb job ferreting out the traitors.’ Martz glared at Heinz Kepplemann, ‘none will escape their just fate!’

Heinz Kepplemann gave a slight smile. ‘I would be delighted to help with that task, sir.’

Colonel Martz grunted, ‘I need you in Czechoslovakia more. Your previous successes in the Ukraine and Yugoslavia make you the ideal choice for this assignment.’ Martz stood and offered his hand. ‘Transport has already been arranged Kepplemann. Good luck to you with this mission.’

Captain Heinz Kepplemann came to attention and gave the Nazi salute before exiting the office. Two days later, he arrived in Plzen not far from the German border. He discovered his deployment group was poorly armed and in low spirits. The combat record of the group was dismal and their previous commander had killed himself, Kepplemann was informed. The relentless advance of the Red Army weighed heavily on his men. Captain Kepplemann went right to work. He procured better weapons and plenty of ammunition. He insisted that they improve their dress, bearing, and discipline. He banished three men to concentration camps for failing to meet his standards. The remainder of his command smartened up immediately. Heinz Kepplemann put his unit through a rigorous training routine to sharpen their combat skills. Captain Kepplemann as always pushed his men hard. He risked his life just as he demanded that they do. His men rallied to him and followed their leader. Einsatzgruppen #301 clamped down on resistance activity in the rear area of the German forces. Heinz Kepplemann seized hostages of all ages and both sexes. He promptly executed them publically whenever there was a terrorist attack. He bribed, threatened, and tricked the local population into submission. His already lengthy list of war crimes grew longer as he fought his campaign.

All of his efforts were however, in vain. The Allied nations their wrath fully aroused deluged Germany with invasion armies. The Wehrmacht was overwhelmed everywhere. The Russians swarmed across eastern Germany like the ancient barbarians in Roman times. The Red Army repaid the Germans in full for the atrocities inflicted by people like Heinz Kepplemann. Captain Kepplemann was not around to witness the capture of Berlin. He abandoned his men to their fate at the hands of the Soviet Army and fled westward. Kepplemann assumed the identity of a Wehrmacht sergeant and surrendered to American troops outside Magdeburg. He attempted to blend in among the teeming residue of the beaten German Army. Lost amidst the other POWs, Heinz Kepplemann waited to watch for his chance to escape. The summer of 1945 passed with Heinz Kepplemann still in the POW cage. The occupying powers firmly consolidated their control over Germany. American, British, French, and Soviet troops divided Germany into four zones. The German POWs were interrogated then sorted based on the perceived threat level they presented. Heinz Kepplemann kept to himself avoiding fraternizing with his fellow inmates for fear of betrayal. August of 1945 was hot in Germany as the former Wehrmacht troopers waited on events. Near the end of the month, Heinz Kepplemann was moved to another enclosure within the main camp. Kepplemann knew that this section was used for men scheduled for release. He gloated as he started to smell the sweet scent of success. He had duped his captors and soon would vanish amidst the other survivors of the destroyed Reich. Kepplemann was subjected to a final examination by the U.S. Army military police. His lack of official Wehrmacht documents aroused their suspicion. He was ordered to take a thorough medical examination. This was very dangerous Kepplemann knew. His SS tattoo was under his arm and his blood type was indicated as well. So far, he had managed to avoid exposure but now just as release beckoned him, the Yankees were suddenly probing more carefully. The medical check proved to be Kepplemann’s undoing. The distinctive markings of the SS were discovered and he was arrested as a war criminal. All members of the SS were designated as criminals by the Allied powers and placed in separate prisoner camps. Heinz Kepplemann soon found himself in a heavily guarded facility outside of Frankfurt. Kepplemann was horrified to learn that several men who had served under his command were being confined here. Two of them immediately fingered Kepplemann to the American investigators. Heinz Kepplemann was hauled off to a private interrogation center. The Americans referred to this facility as Camp King. Kepplemann learned that during the war this compound was used by the Luftwaffe to interrogate downed Allied flyers. Now the U.S. Army’s Counter Intelligence Corps (CIC) used the facility for secret debriefings. Once his cover was blown, Heinz Kepplemann decided to attempt to manipulate his captors. Kepplemann made no secret of his anti-Russian activities on the Eastern Front. He made it clear that he despised communism and loathed the Soviet Union. Heinz Kepplemann did not bring up his actions while stationed in France. The American intelligence officers questioned him closely about his duties in the Ukraine, Yugoslavia, and Czechoslovakia. Heinz Kepplemann justified his actions on the basis that his victims were terrorists and not covered by the rules of war. Kepplemann boasted of his success in January 1943, when his battle group led the destruction of the main partisan base at the Battle of Neretva in Yugoslavia. In June of that year, his soldiers provided the key information that resulted in the trapping and annihilation of an entire partisan force. The German victory at the Battle of Sutjeska subdued the entire region for the rest of the year. Heinz Kepplemann presented himself as a dedicated anti-communist who was confronted by terrorists who used illegal means to wage war. It was self-defense and the obligation to carry out the orders he received that compelled him to use harsh methods. The U.S. Intelligence officers still did not inquire into his activities in France. Heinz Kepplemann realized that the Americans must know these facts, yet they said nothing about it. Kepplemann began to sense that something was brewing. Several men in civilian clothes who were treated with deference by the military staff twice questioned him. These men carried an air of genuine authority. Heinz Kepplemann recognized them immediately as American intelligence agents. Again, his actions while in France were not discussed. Heinz Kepplemann was kept in solitary confinement for two weeks before being summoned again. Kepplemann was placed in a cement cell with no windows. There was a table with four chairs in front of him. A powerful light was aimed directly into Kepplemann’s eyes. He sat alone for some time while the bright beam pierced his eyeballs. The door behind opened and three men silently entered the room and sat in the chairs across the table. The light was so dazzling that Kepplemann could not see their faces. The trio sat quietly for a moment then one spoke heavily.

‘Heinz Kepplemann you are a war criminal. Your record is one of blood, terror, and viciousness. The Russians have demanded that we turn you over to them so that you may answer for your heinous crimes on the Eastern Front. The French Government has issued a warrant for your arrest for your actions in Lyon. You deserve your nickname as The Hangman of the Rhone Valley. There was a pause to allow the words to seep fully into Heinz Kepplemann’s mind. The deep voice continued remorselessly. ‘You deserve no mercy of any kind.’

A different man took up the thread. ‘You do however have one chance, not that you deserve it. We have noted the fervor of your anti-communist feelings. Your actions against pro-Soviet partisans underline your commitment. We are willing to offer you a chance to save your life.’

Heinz Kepplemann winced as the light continued to hurt his eyes. He licked his lips then nodded. ‘What do you want me to do?’

The second man spoke in business-like terms. ‘If you agree to assist us in counter intelligence operations against the Soviet Union we will protect you from arrest for your war crimes. You must follow orders to the letter and if you betray us, we will hunt you down and kill you. There is nowhere on the earth that you can go to escape us.’

Heinz Kepplemann swallowed then nodded. ‘I agree to your terms. What happens later?’

The first man spoke immediately. ‘We make no promises about that Kepplemann.’

The second man added, ‘much will depend on your actions Herr Kepplemann. You hold the key to your own future. Serve us well and you will be rewarded.’

Former Haupsturmfuher Heinz Kepplemann was soon transformed into an agent for the American OSS. He was transferred to a new compound not far from Camp King. He was told that this was safe house code named Haus Blue. The training of Heinz Kepplemann commenced promptly. In early 1947, a former SS General from the Reich Security Central Office joined him. Robert Hauser introduced himself as the head of the Hauser Organization. He informed Heinz Kepplemann that as from this day he would be serving under Hauser’s orders. Heinz Kepplemann came to attention and clicking his heels together said, ‘at your orders Herr General.’ The war against communism was about to resume.

Heinz Kepplemann was provided with a new identity. He was assigned to a counter intelligence group operating in the American occupation zone. All of his companions were former German agents. Several served in the Abwehr, the German espionage organization. Some were veterans of the Reich Security Service and two were ex-Gestapo agents. U.S. Army CIC officers supervised them. Most of their duties involved penetrating Soviet controlled spy networks. Once the members had been identified, the American Military Police swooped in and arrested the culprits. Given the chaotic conditions in Germany, the Russians found many willing collaborators who, for money or better living standards, would spy on the Americans. Heinz Kepplemann proved himself, adept at convincing captured agents to talk. His techniques for prying information out prisoners always succeeded. His American controllers never inquired too closely about the details of how this data was acquired. The Soviets started to retaliate against any former operatives who cooperated with the Americans. Russians agents were sent to kill any who divulged information. General Hauser ordered Kepplemann to take a team of men and halt these attacks. Kepplemann’s team was provided with pistols and ammunition and told to keep his operations quiet. There developed a secret but deadly game of hide and seek amidst the ruins of Germany. In October of 1947 near Frankfurt, Heinz Kepplemann and two of his companions intercepted a Soviet strike team. A tip reached Kepplemann about a rendezvous between the Soviets and an informant. Heinz Kepplemann concealed his associates and waited. The turncoat arrived, a woman about thirty- five years of age. Two men soon turned up. One took a position to keep watch while the other man talked to the woman. Kepplemann watched from his hiding place as the woman quickly handed over some papers. The man examined them then nodded. He reached inside his coat and withdrew a large package, which he presented to the informer. Kepplemann blew his whistle and the trap was sprung. The enemy agent on guard duty pulled out a gun only to be promptly shot dead. The other man and the woman raised their hands. Heinz Kepplemann ordered the pair secured then checked the ID papers of the dead agent. Kepplemann pocketed the papers and the gun, and then instructed his team to remove the prisoners. The party left the area quickly before any police could arrive to ask embarrassing questions. Kepplemann’s team brought their prisoners to a bombed out building. The deserted neighborhood had been leveled in air raids. Heinz Kepplemann searched the enemy agent. Hidden inside his shoe was an identity card for the GRU, Russian Military Intelligence. Kepplemann smiled at his victim. Here was a genuine Soviet spy. They had netted an important fish this time. The American interrogators at Camp King would welcome him. The woman was crying pleading for her life. She had three children at home she sobbed. Her husband had been killed in the war and this was the only way she could feed her family. Heinz Kepplemann stared at her without emotion. He curtly ordered his two assistants to deliver the Russian to the American Counter Intelligence Corps officer. Once they were gone, the woman looked at Heinz Kepplemann in fear. He smiled and gently stroked the side of her face. The woman swallowed, producing a wan smile. Heinz Kepplemann slid his hand along her cheek then clamped both hands around her neck. He slowly tightened his grip forcing his victim to her knees. She choked, clawing frantically at his hands. Heinz Kepplemann released his grip letting her regain her breath. Coughing she rubbed her neck, her eyes wide with fear. Heinz Kepplemann then slapped her repeatedly leaving her cringing on the ground. Then he again seized her throat and resumed slowly strangling her. He released his hands again to let her grab some air then tightened his grip once more. The woman was kicking her legs in desperation. Heinz Kepplemann grew tired of the game and squeezed the life out of his victim. Satisfied that she was dead he stood in triumph over her lifeless body exalting in his power. Heinz Kepplemann returned victorious to the safe house. General Hauser was delighted at the capture of such an important Soviet agent. The American intelligence service had the prisoner flown back to the U.S.A. Hauser made no complaint about the killing of the other agent and expressed contempt for the woman collaborator. The Hauser Organization, using their wartime experience taught the American agents about the methods used by the Russian Intelligence Service. General Hauser passed the word that not all of the relevant information was to be shared with the Americans lest they discard the Germans. The German agents continued to compromise Soviet spy rings and the members of the Hauser Organization were rewarded with a very comfortable life at the expense of the U.S. taxpayers. Heinz Kepplemann captured three more Russian agents and killed two more collaborators. His American controller cautioned Kepplemann about the killings. Life in occupied Germany was settling down now. The American military was starting to allow the families of the occupation forces to come and live in Germany. The free for all of the war’s aftermath was over. Heinz Kepplemann was assigned to check out the report of Russian agents spying on the movements of senior American Army officers. Information had reached the Hauser Organization that the Soviets were considering a sudden military strike against the Western Allies. The Russian blockade of Berlin coupled with constant threats of military action gave weight to this new rumor. The Russian Army had increased its strength in Germany and the possibility of a Soviet invasion loomed. The Western Allies had allowed their military strength in Europe to diminish to dangerous levels. The ability of the Americans, British, and French to defeat a Soviet assault was very open to question. In this atmosphere of fear and uncertainty, intelligence operations continued. Heinz Kepplemann was assigned to shadow a known Soviet supporter. Kepplemann trailed his man to Hannover. The fellow was an experienced agent and was very careful as he made his journey. Kepplemann was forced to give his target credit; he knew his business. Unfortunately, for the agent Heinz Kepplemann also knew his business. The collaborator slipped across a busy street dodging vehicle traffic and pedestrians then ducked into a building. Heinz Kepplemann guessed the man’s intentions and hurried over to the next block. Kepplemann watched waiting for his target to appear. Several minutes passed then the man slipped out of the building and crossed another street. Kepplemann shadowed his man through several bombed out structures closing the distance with his victim. This area of Hannover had been destroyed in air attacks providing excellent cover. Heinz Kepplemann spotted his quarry dodging around a corner. Kepplemann followed entering a damaged building to regain contact. Heinz Kepplemann advanced quietly listening intently as he moved. He paused as he detected the sound of voices coming from inside a room on the far side of a rubble pile. Pulling out his gun Heinz Kepplemann stalked his prey. He emerged from around the far corner of the rubble to discover three men standing watch with drawn pistols. Looking behind the guards Kepplemann saw his target talking intently with another man. One of the guards looked over and spotted Kepplemann lurking by the corner of the rubble pile. Heinz Kepplemann wasted not a second. The gun in his hand chattered. All three of the guards went down in bloody heaps. Kepplemann charged out at the two others. The collaborator dropped to his knees reaching inside his coat. Heinz Kepplemann shot him as he ran past pursuing the last agent. The fleeing man ran out the side door and then sprinted along the crowded sidewalk. Heinz Kepplemann raced after his target. The other man pulled out a pistol and turned to fire. Heinz Kepplemann went down on his right knee and took careful aim. The other man fired twice. Kepplemann heard the rounds buzz by the top of his head. Heinz Kepplemann took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger. The pistol jumped in his hand. Kepplemann fired twice more as the other man fled. The people on the street scattered as the gun battle erupted around them. Heinz Kepplemann again took careful aim and squeezed off two more rounds. The enemy agent sprawled headlong in the street. Heinz Kepplemann advanced cautiously, approaching his victim slowly. He saw the blood flowing out of the back of the dead man’s head. Heinz Kepplemann recovered the documents the traitor had delivered as well as the dead man’s identity papers. Sliding his gun back under his coat Heinz Kepplemann vanished into one of the bombed out buildings that abounded. Kepplemann managed to escape back to the safe house near Frankfurt. He rendered his report to General Hauser who after hearing that five men had been killed sternly ordered Kepplemann to remain under house arrest. The next week passed with Heinz Kepplemann remaining under detention. General Hauser abruptly informed Kepplemann that he was summoned to an inquiry by the U.S. Army’s CIC. Heinz Kepplemann duly appeared before a three-man tribunal that included his controller. Kepplemann delivered his report insisting that he had no choice but to make a fight of it. His controller angrily demanded to know if Kepplemann had recalled being specifically warned against violence unless absolutely necessary. The gunfight had taken place in daylight on a crowded city street. There were over twenty witnesses Kepplemann was informed. Leaving five dead bodies behind aroused the attention of senior commanders. Important people were demanding answers about this event. Kepplemann’s description had been given to the police who were searching determinedly for him. One of the tribunal members observed that Kepplemann’s usefulness as an agent was over. Heinz Kepplemann pointed out that he had completed his mission in the face of heavy odds. He had been outnumbered five to one, yet he successfully recovered the documents. He also eliminated a spy and four enemy agents at the same time. The tribunal members made no comment. Heinz Kepplemann was transferred to the custody of U.S. Intelligence. He remained in confinement for the next three months. The days passed eternally the same; it was if time had ceased to exist. Heinz Kepplemann was starting to wonder if he had been forgotten and was fated to remain here forever.

Finally, an American intelligence officer came to visit him. The man was an older fellow perhaps sixty years of age. He was somewhat portly with thin red hair. He had blue eyes that sparkled and a ready grin. He shook hands with Heinz Kepplemann and the two sat at a table. The American opened a dossier, which he read for several minutes in silence. When he finished the U.S. agent closed the file and folded his hands on top of it. ‘My name is Mr. Caine. Well I must say Herr Kepplemann, you have an interesting history.’ The agent sat back folding his arms across his chest as he regarded Kepplemann.

Mr. Cain studied the man across the table with a shiver of uneasiness. This former SS officer was tall, thin, with a pinched face. Kepplemann’s expressionless eyes were hooded and menacing. Heinz Kepplemann gave the impression that he could erupt at any second. The American spoke quietly. ‘The man you killed on the street up in Hannover turned out to be a senior Soviet spy. The information you recovered was very important, very important indeed. Unfortunately, you have been identified and the Soviet Government is insisting that you be handed over to them. The nations of Yugoslavia and France also want your head on a plate. Most of the officials here in Germany consider you a liability and want to dump you into the Russian’s hands.’ Mr. Cain took a moment to blow his nose then he sighed. He gestured to the dossier on the table. ‘Given your history I know you will do whatever you must to survive. You know far too much about the Hauser Organization to be allowed to fall into Soviet hands.’ Mr. Cain stretched, ‘we could of course simply execute you, and that would solve the problem.’ He started directly into Heinz Kepplemann’s eyes. ‘You have no friends Kepplemann, nobody to speak for you, except me.’

Heinz Kepplemann crossed his legs. ‘Why are you here Herr Cain?’

Mr. Cain smiled grimly, ‘we are not finished with you yet Kepplemann. The national interests of the United States are more important than the fate of one war criminal, which you certainly are.’ Mr. Cain sat forward in his chair. ‘I have a deal for you Herr Kepplemann. We are concerned about the spread of communist theology in Latin America. There has been a growing clamor for socialistic revolution in the Western Hemisphere. That is not something the United States would welcome. Given your hatred of the communists and your performance in counter intelligence we believe you can be of help to us.’ Mr. Cain stared at Heinz Kepplemann appraisingly. ‘Would you be willing to go to South America and accept employment from us to combat the spread of communism? It would get you out of Europe and out of reach of the Soviets. We will protect you from arrest.’

Heinz Kepplemann laughed, ‘if I decline I will be found dead, no?’

Mr. Cain coolly looked into Kepplemann’s eyes ‘that is correct.’

Heinz Kepplemann nodded. ‘I free trip to South America eh?’ He shrugged ‘I will work for you.’ He stared at Mr. Cain. ‘You are right. I do despise the communists. During the war, America would have been wise to help Germany destroy the Soviet Union then you would not have these problems today.’

Mr. Cain frowned, ‘Kepplemann I said we need you to work for us. I never said we like you. I suggest that in the future you keep opinions like that to yourself.’ Mr. Cain rose, ‘I will arrange for your journey, you will be leaving shortly.’ Without another word, Mr. Cain walked out.

Heinz Kepplemann was moved to another safe house this time in Frankfurt itself. He was the only German on the premises. He was required to remain away from the windows and was allowed outside only after dark in the courtyard at the back of the house. Mr. Cain’s promise of leaving shortly proved to be inaccurate. Four months passed and the new year of 1948 rolled across the calendar. It was the end of March before Mr. Cain suddenly arrived at the house. He ordered Kepplemann brought to the parlor on the side of the home. Mr. Cain closed the door and gestured towards a chair. He opened a briefcase, pulling out several folders. He sorted through them for a minute then sat down next to Heinz Kepplemann. He took a deep breath then looked at Kepplemann.

‘Herr Kepplemann we are having a far more difficult time receiving clearance to get you out of Germany then we expected. The American Press has exposed Operation Overcast, an intelligence program that has brought German scientists to America. Public opinion is vehemently opposed to bringing ex -Nazis to our nation if they have criminal records. Somehow, the newspapers managed to uncover some classified documents and published them. Now influential members of the American press are demanding an end to such programs. I am afraid that you have been ensnared in the uproar.’

Heinz Kepplemann shrugged. ‘In the Reich any newspaper reporters who did such things would vanish and never be heard from again.’ He yawned, ‘in the SS we knew how to change public opinion.’

Mr. Cain slammed his fist on the edge of his chair. ‘Kepplemann I warned you before about speaking like that.’ Mr. Cain glared as he leaned over closer to his companion. ‘The Russians have discovered that you are in our custody. They have formally requested that we extradite you immediately. The American High Commissioner for Western Germany is under pressure to comply in an effort to lower tensions with the Soviet Government.’ Mr. Cain drew out a paper from the briefcase. ‘This is a formal indictment charging you SS Haupsturmfuher Heinz Kepplemann with the murder of six Russian flyers in the Ukraine in 1942. This document states that your SS unit captured them after a Luftwaffe night fighter shot down their bomber. Local witness submitted depositions that they saw you shoot each of the aircrew PERSONALLY!’ The last word came out with a roar.

Heinz Kepplemann’s face went white as he thought back to that cloudy and windy night in Ukraine. He recalled that he allowed the local residents to watch the execution of the downed flyers as a way to intimidate them. Now his tactics had returned to haunt him. The thought of being delivered into the vengeful hands of the Russians made him shake with fear. He ran his hand through his hair and looked away for a moment. He faced his angry superior. ‘I apologize, Herr Cain. I spoke out of turn, please forgive me. It will not happen again.’

Mr. Cain rammed the damning paper back into the briefcase. He took a breath then continued, ‘very well Herr Kepplemann I will give you one more chance.’ Mr. Cain handed over a folder. ‘Inside are your new identification papers. There is an international Red Cross refugee passport issued in the name of Alois Brandt. You are from Hamburg and served in Wehrmacht’s communications service. You have a clean record as far as war crimes go.’ Mr. Cain produced an envelope. ‘These are travel warrants and tickets. You will go via train first to Paris then to Madrid. There you will continue to the port of Malaga. The address is listed. Go there; they will be expecting you. Our people will provide you with a steamship ticket to Argentina. The Government of Argentina has agreed to accept you as a refugee. They are already making the necessary arrangements to employee you as an advisor to the National Police Service. Our organization has operatives in Argentina and they will contact you when they are ready. You will adhere to their orders at all times. Our protection can be withdrawn so do not exhibit any more of the hubris you have shown tonight.’ Mr. Cain handed over a large manila envelope. ‘Here are ration coupons and some money. Your health documents are enclosed with the passport.’ He sat back folding his arms across his chest, ‘Any questions?’

Heinz Kepplemann scanned the papers for several minutes then looked up. ‘I understand Herr Cain. Everything is in order and I will obey orders.’

Mr. Cain stood up and walked quickly to the door. He turned and stared at the smug looking German. ‘I too am required to obey orders Kepplemann. That is the only reason I don’t hand you over to the Russians!’ Mr. Cain exited slamming the door behind him.

Heinz Kepplemann sniffed contemptuously after the door slammed. He again examined the documents. It all looked perfect. The American intelligence service appeared to have this situation under control. Tomorrow he would be on his way to Spain. Heinz Kepplemann considered the possibility of deserting the Americans once he was safely in Spanish territory. The Government there would refuse to hand him over, but the Americans were certain to come after him. He shrugged; he would go to Argentina and give advice to their National Police. If they wanted to kill communists, then Heinz Kepplemann was more than willing to teach them how to do it efficiently. As he rose to return to his room, Heinz Kepplemann thought again about that cold night in Ukraine. This time he smiled at the memory. He had indeed shot each of the Russian flyers himself. He killed them one at a time with a break between each execution to make the full horror of their fate clear to the next victim. Seeing the death of prisoners complete with all the screams and the flying blood was an excellent tool of intimidation. It worked in the Ukraine and it would work in Argentina as well. Heinz Kepplemann hoped the Argentinians were not as squeamish as the Americans were. Kepplemann enjoyed a pleasant night’s sleep. The next day a man with a passport for Alois Brandt boarded a train in Frankfurt and was soon on his way to Paris. Crossing the border with France proved to be unexpectedly easy. The Immigration officers scanned his refugee passport then without a word handed it back. In Paris, Heinz Kepplemann changed for the Express to Madrid. Entering Spain also went off without a hitch. After spending an enjoyable night in the Spanish capital, the man called Alois Brandt took a train to the port city of Malaga. Nestled along the Spanish Sun Coast on the Mediterranean Sea, Malaga was a busy ocean terminal. People of many nationalities thronged the streets. Heinz Kepplemann took a taxi to the address given to him by Mr. Cain. It turned out to be a small house located in an industrial neighborhood. The fellow called Alois Brandt knocked at the front door. An old woman wearing a faded housedress looked at her visitor with suspicious eyes demanding in Spanish what he wanted. Heinz Kepplemann answered in German then held out the paper Mr. Cain gave him. The woman snatched the paper then slammed the door closed. Kepplemann stood patiently waiting until the door reopened and the woman of the house waved him inside. She indicated that he was to follow her. She led him down the stairs in the back of the house to the basement. There was a wooden table and four chairs. She turned on the dangling naked bulb for illumination then silently went up the steps. Heinz Kepplemann studied his surroundings. The house was an old one and the cellar smelled of old things. Piles of clutter loomed all around him as he waited. Over an hour passed before the sound of voices came from overhead. Those voices spoke Spanish then in a lower tone, English. The door at the top of the stairs opened and two men clattered down the rickety steps. One was an older heavyset man perhaps fifty years of age with brown hair and eyes. The other was also pudgy, about twenty or so with lighter hair and large brown eyes. The pair looked Heinz Kepplemann over for a moment then in English, the big man demanded Kepplemann’s papers. Heinz Kepplemann handed the documents in the name of Alois Brandt over without comment. The large agent studied them passing each one to his partner. When both were finished, they sat at the table. The big fellow nodded to his pal and the younger man spoke.

‘We have been expecting you Herr Brandt. We have orders to procure a steamship ticket to Buenos Aires in Argentina for you. You will travel in Immigrant Class on the Italian Line. The liner Saturnia will call here next week on her way from Genoa to Buenos Aires. The vessel will make a number of stops, but you are not to get off the ship for any reason except an emergency. You are to limit your contact with your fellow travelers to the necessities only. You must not do anything to attract any attention to yourself until you are safely in Argentina.’ He paused looking at his superior. The large man now joined the conversation. ‘I do not know your real identity, but since you are taking what we call the rat line you must be a war criminal.’ He sat back with his hands in his pockets regarding his visitor with distaste. ‘You may go out of this house in the evening to get some exercise. If you wish, you may go into the city, but’ he waved his finger, ‘you do so at your own risk. I strongly advise you to keep to yourself. There are war criminal hunters active here in Malaga. If you are as despicable as I suspect, you might be recognized and seized.’ The large man stared at the man he knew as Alois Brandt with a frown across his heavy features. ‘If that happens we cannot help you.’ The younger man rummaged through one of the piles on the floor and unearthed a book. He tossed it on the table in front of the German. ‘Since you are going to Argentina, you might want to start learning Spanish.’

The two men rose and indicated that Heinz Kepplemann was