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Book 2 - Chapter 4
🕑 Added 2020-05-09 10:01:03 +0000 UTCNamibia
Dietrich Von Gürtner has been living in Namibia his whole life, but always saw himself as a pure-blood German. His father came here at the end of World War II, bringing with him enough Jewish gold, and artwork, to make himself one of the richest men in the country. His old man often joked how he had escaped just in time to avoid being hanged in Nuremberg; him being one of the Nazi officers of the upper echelon, who saw how the winds of war were turning. He certainly had no intention to face the consequences of his own actions.
Unlike many of his colleagues, who escaped to South America, he decided to go to one place where Germans still had the biggest influence—Namibia. What most of the world did not know, or cared, was that all of the atrocities done by Nazis in Europe had their roots in this country. The first concentration camps, racial genocide, white supremacy, ethnic cleansing… could be traced to this place.
Dr. Mengele, Herman Goering, and many others derived their worldview from here; after all, the first genocide of the Twentieth Century' was committed by Germans in Namibia.
Even now, in this new century, their German descendants held the reins of money, land, and industry. Despite all the reforms and hard-won independence, the real power still resided in white hands. The black population was treated with scorn, those that were still living. A century of extermination took its toll, so the country now had a second-lowest population density of any sovereign country in the world.
Dietrich felt as if he was a king among men. His kingdom may not be recognized, but that did not make it any less real. He managed to grow his father’s immense fortune many times over, and tens of thousands of people toiled every day in his factories, and on his plantations. At his home, which was on an immense one million acres of property, a few hours away from the capital city of Windhoek, his word was law. That law was based on one of the creeds his father taught him—there should always be segregation of races. Black people were a subspecies born to serve, and on his land, that creed was upheld in spite of official laws. If those that fed their families by working for the minimum wage he was paying them, and living in his company's slums, broke that law—they were immediately thrown out on the street.
He was right now in a state of anticipation and arousal; Dietrich could not stop thinking about the activities he has planned for tonight. An admirer of some peculiar historic practices, one thing excited him above all—slave harems. The entire stable of young beautiful women, indulging his every whim and desire. After taking the reins of his late father’s financial empire… Dietrich created one.
There were over thirty beautiful girls in a basement underneath his Villa, a place that was decorated in a historically accurate style, which Sultans of the Ottoman Empire would easily recognize. What’s more, when he got bored of a certain girl, or if she was too hard to train, Dietrich simply disposed of her. There were always more girls he could buy from his suppliers. He even had two mute eunuch guards that were a great help in subduing and training new girls.
Tonight was reserved for savoring his newest acquisition, a beautiful blond bought and shipped from one of his suppliers in Nigeria. She was quite older than the others were, but her exquisite looks ensured that she would provide entertainment for a while. The girl would be bathed, scented with expensive perfumes, dressed in the finest silks, and then, after being tied to a post so the other girls could see, he would whip her. Even mares needed to be broken in, and the girl had to be taught her place in the world; to admit the fact that he was her master, who needed to be unquestionably obeyed.
***
Michael was observing the impressive estate; a so-called house that resembled something one would expect royalty to live in—massive, and exceedingly opulent. He shuddered just thinking how long it would take to vacuum this place.
The late Abubakar Shekau was nice enough to provide the exact location where Dietrich Von Gürtner lived. Apparently, he visited the man one time when he had a large shipment of young girls to sell; and Dietrich showed him a good time, as was fitting for his best supplier.
There was security on the property, but nothing close to the house. A checkpoint one-mile away, guarding the only access road; and a few guardhouses placed at the same distance on other sides. That did not matter to Michael and the team, they were not coming by land.
It was ridiculously easy to enter the house under the guise of camouflage, silent ghosts walking the corridors of a palace. The enormous building was mostly empty, only a small portion was used to actually live in it. He wondered about the reason behind building such an immense structure if one were not even going to use most of it.
A separated room close to the entrance was where they found two guards watching the numerous monitors on the walls. This was the security command center for the entire estate, and as far as the team could ascertain, somebody sold Von Gürtner on an idea that he had good security when in fact—it was a joke. Those guards that were a mile away could not help him if he needed them in a hurry. The two guards inside were more interested in watching a game on TV than checking what the security cameras showed.
Max used the battle-suits as wireless routers to hack into their entire network, which took him less than five seconds. After looking through the recordings of the guards’ security procedures, he gave the okay that the guards could be taken out. They were not even worth a bullet, so Michael used tranquilizers in his gloves to touch them at the back of their necks, and they fell unconscious within a second.
After a few minutes, the team had the entire layout of the place; the only surprise was two big bald men dressed in archaic Oriental clothes, that were in a room adjacent to the basement. They too fell unconscious after Alice swiftly applied a tranquilizer.
“I found them, Michael,” Alice said and sent him a few images of the dungeon basement.
Michael saw many girls sitting or sleeping in very nice rooms, but even with the bars painted gold, they could be called nothing else but prison cells.
“All right, stay there and guard them. Don’t show yourself yet; when we finish upstairs, we’ll join you.”
Michael and Tyron entered Dietrich’s office, carefully turning the knob, so the noise wouldn’t inform the man of new visitors. Michael realized that they should not have bothered to be so quiet. First, the office was immense, and Dietrich was sitting behind his desk which was at least thirty-five feet away from the door. Second, he had headphones on, and his entire face was hidden behind a large flat-screen computer monitor on his desk.
“This is somewhat… anticlimactic.” Tyron sent to Michael through his implant.
“I know… what do you think he’s watching?” Michael answered.
Out of curiosity, Michael walked around the corpulent man’s desk and saw what he was so engrossed with. It was a video of himself having intercourse with a very beautiful young woman. While she did not resist the act, her eyes told an entirely different story; they showed pure desperation and anguish.
Michael walked to the front side of the desk where Tyron was waiting, and they both turned off their camouflage, appearing in front of the man. He was so focused on his computer screen that it took a few moments for him to notice that he was not alone in the room anymore. Once he did, his eyes grew round in a panic, but that did not stop Dietrich from reaching towards the drawer that, Michael surmised, held a weapon. One flechette round took care of that, grazing the man’s shoulder, which caused him to scream in pain.
“Who are you… what do you want? I am an important man, and the police will be here soon.”
“Well, for starters, we need all your bank account numbers and of course passwords. Apart from that, providing us with any information you have on the people you buy your slaves from—would be very nice.”
Dietrich shook his head. “What are you talking about? I have no slaves. I am an honest businessman that provides many jobs in this country. Now get out of my house before my security shoots you on the spot.”
Michael sighed, knowing that Dietrich would choose the hard way, not that it would change the outcome of the entire conversation. Still, he decided to do the questioning himself. After Alice’s last performance, he wanted a bit more civilized way of extracting information. And didn’t want to put her through additional stressful situations.
For the next ten minutes, Michael and Tyron played a little game. They would ask a question and if Dietrich did not answer, they would try to superficially cut the obese man using precisely aimed shots. So far, Tyron was winning; Michael missed the tip of the ear and cut a part of it off. It would be a tie if the man wasn’t trying to evade the shoots.
For some reason, Dietrich really hated the whole game; he promptly started telling them everything they asked of him. Al came into the room, wondering who was making all that noise. Interestingly enough, he had on his back one of those mountaineers’ backpacks, with aluminum rods for support.
“What in God’s name are you carrying?” Michael asked.
“Diamonds,” Al answered nonchalantly.
“Diamonds?”
“Yes, diamonds. Max dug up information that Dietrich here kept most of his wealth in diamonds, so he sent Pete and me on a scavenger hunt. Well… we found them.” Al answered with a big grin on his face.
Michael just shook his head and turned towards Tyron and Dietrich
He understood men like him, they were weak and cowards at heart. Using their money and position to be above everybody; when confronting someone that did not care about those things, they quickly folded.
“Fine, let’s wrap this up. We have people to save,” Michael said.
Tyron took off his helmet and put it on the table.
Dietrich’s eyes filled with rage and hate. “A black… Boy, I’m going to whip you until you beg, you should have learned your place, you dirty—“
Whatever else Dietrich Von Gürtner was planning to say, was interrupted by full auto flechettes burst from Tyron’s weapon; not that anyone was interested in listening to him anymore.
Only Al looked reproachfully towards Tyron.
“What? My finger slipped,” the big man stated.
“That was a perfect moment to say something cool. Like ‘Hasta la vista, baby’, Yippee-Ki-Yay… whatever. You don’t simply shoot a bad guy in this kind of situation without delivering a cool line, it’s highly unsatisfactory,” Al said.
The look Tyron gave him, paused Al’s tirade, and he started backtracking immediately.
“Then again, silent and deadly is a statement in itself, it works for you.”
They descended into the basement and took off their helmets, so the girls would not be frightened by seeing people dressed in black from head to foot. Each girl had her own gilded cage, richly furnished to disguise its true nature. They did not even scream when they saw Michael and the others, but lowered their heads, trying not to look them in the eyes. A consequence of Dietrich’s conditioning.
Dr. Emma Williams was in the last cell, curled in the fetal position, and facing the wall. Tyron took the two bars in his hands and pulled, the flimsy lock broke under the big man’s strength.
“Dr. Williams,” Michael said, “Dr. Ross sent us to find you.”
The blond woman lifted her head lethargically, her eyes were puffy from all the crying and there was a lost look in them. She observed them dully, with a sense of detachment.
“We found Zizi, he is safe on the Pagan Island right now.”
The last thing he said worked like a magic spell, her entire demeanor changed and she jumped from the bed and hugged Michael, clinging to him and crying on his shoulder.
“I thought he was dead… I thought that those monsters killed him.”
“No, he was a good boy and hid under the bed. He made me promise to tell you that he didn’t move and that he misses you.” Michael said to the woman who was shaking in his arms.
It took Dr. Williams a while to get herself together. Meanwhile, the others released the rest of the girls from their cells. Max had arranged for one of the big transporters to come and pick them up. It was currently camouflaged, and parked in front of the big house. As they were guiding the girls out of the basement, something unexpected happened. One of them saw the two eunuch guards lying unconscious, and screamed inarticulately. What happened next was sheer pandemonium.
It was quite a surreal sight the team witnessed. Dozens of scantily clad, beautiful girls, pounced like a pack of hyenas on the two eunuch guards. Using their hands, feet, and any piece of furniture that was at hand, to attack the men who helped in their torture.
Michael and the others did not want to interfere, and Dr. Williams was hiding her face in her hands. It took a few minutes for them to vent their anger, but it was enough. The two men were not among the living anymore. Unfortunately, they passed away peacefully, still under the influence of the tranquilizer.
Anna, Mary, and a few other volunteers were waiting in the big transporter to help move the women to the island. After a few brief words with the team, they quickly went on their way.
A few minutes later, Michael and the others boarded their transporter and followed them. In addition to all the diamonds Al carried, they helped themselves to a few pricey works of art that were hanging on the walls. It would be wasteful to just leave them there.
***
Aboard Transporter 001
Destination: Pagan Island
For most of the trip to the island, Michael was unusually silent; looking at the outside without seeing anything.
“You’re okay there boss?” Pete asked him after a while.
Michael turned his head, and the big guy could see a distinct look on his friend's face. It was the same kind of look he saw several times during their friendship, and every time it preceded a fundamental decision.
“Yeah… I was thinking about something. We will need to change some things…” Michael said, absent-mindedly.
Then, his gaze sharpened, like that of a predator bird focused on its prey.
“Max… summon everybody important for a meeting tomorrow morning, we have a few things to discuss.” He then returned to his previous contemplations.
There was a silence on the transporter after that, until Al turned to Alice and said, “Hey Alice, will you do me a favor.”
Alice was reading something on her tablet at the time, but at the sound of her name, she lifted her head.
“What is it?”
“Well, I was just thinking of the way Abubakar Shekau met his maker, so if you wouldn’t mind informing me if I ever do something to make you mad, I’ll appreciate it,” he said with a grin. Which was erased a moment later by her cold and unwavering gaze.
“All right… I’ll shut up.” He muttered.
There was not much talking for the rest of the flight, and Al began snoring loudly after a while. A well-placed slap on the back of his head stopped the dreadful sound.
Nobody looked his way or claimed responsibility for the slap.
***
Pagan Island, Pacific Ocean
The team arrived at the island in time to see the reunion of Dr. Williams and Zizi. In spite of the medical nanites, the boy was still weak from his ordeal, but they knew he would be back to normal soon. Children bounce back surprisingly fast.
They were both running towards each other, with Zizi screaming “Mama! Mama!” at the top of his lungs. She scooped him into her arms and hugged him for all his worth, telling him that everything will be all right and that she loved him more than anything in the world. Those two were like a small island in a group of lost people, so everyone gave them some space, not wanting to intrude in their little world of happiness. Max, who had talked to some villagers, explained to Michael that she was his adoptive mother. She took him in after he was left orphaned when his parents died in an accident.
Michael was standing a little to the side, with Elizabeth under his arm, watching as the people laughed and cried. Some were happy to be free; others were devastated by the death of their loved ones. It was a hurricane of conflicting emotions that many did not know how to deal with; at least they had help from the volunteers on the island to guide them through their grief.
Seeing this scene only strengthened his decision to drastically change certain things.
Comments
M van Dongen
Ps. Under water salvage also has monetary benefits....low background metals made before the 1940s.
✌⊂(✰‿✰)つ✌
Unkown Novelist
Thanks for the chapter. Looking forward to read what Michael has planned.
