Golden Swastika

Chapter 1

8.46 am and it’s another day in paradise. This is Fuerteventura, one of the Canary Islands off the west coast of Africa. A warm sunny place which is a million miles from where I used to live. Bow, London. A place I slowly grew to hate and for more than one reason, in fact there were hundreds. But that’s for another time. My name is Rick Green: AKA. Prof (short for Professor) I’m 58 years old, 5’ 10" tall. Medium build. Grey hair. Brown eyes, and like most my age I needs glasses to read.

Retired building manager, I’ve spent most of my working life in construction, except for 3 years in the army from 1979-1981. 2 RGJ. MT. Driver. With just over one year to go I was moved out to the Army Intelligence as a driver, due to an over site.

I have been married and divorced with 4 grown up children. I now live alone on the Island of Fuerteventura.

Nothing special about me really, just your average bloke. I got the nickname Prof because of my skill at crosswords, especially cryptic ones, which is exceptional. If I have one failing then it’s that I can never give up once I have started a mystery. A bit of a Sherlock me and as a party piece I can do a jigsaw puzzle upside down, the largest to date was 10,000 pieces. So that’s me Rick (Prof) Green. Solid bloke and a bit of a geek.

I’m sitting next to my small pool under a sun shade drinking my second coffee, I need two cups just to get the day started. Decision time was looming, Golf, Fishing, Bowls or as a northern work mate would say. Just toss it right off.

But the phone rang before I could make my mind up, finishing my coffee on the way to the annoying ring tone which I still haven’t changed but will. I lifted the receiver knowing who it was and used my limited Spanish to answer. Hola bon dia. the phone was strangely silent. Hello the Green residence. I said trying not to snigger.

Prof its Ed, stop prating about mate.

What’s up Longshanks? I replied laughing, as he sighed down the line at me, ‘I was the only one of a few that called him Longshanks’ before replying.

Geezer this is serious, got a mo? the tone of his voice told me he meant it and I stopped messing about, sat down and waited.

Prof, a Kraut bird came to the Little Drivers looking for you and Brenda sent her over to me. I said I knew you, but we hadn’t spoke for a while. I never gave her any more info mate, thought it best to speak with you first. Tell you what Prof, I would!

Longshanks you’d shag a warthog if she looked your way. What did she want?

Me I reckon… Nah seriously she didn’t say but said she had to talk to you about her granddad, she gave me this card with a name on it and a contact number. How’s about you have the name and I keep the number?

Whatever pal, just cough up the info? A thirty second raspberry blasted out as I shook my head at the sound. Still I was intrigued, as I didn’t have any German friends that I knew of.

It says Monica Angerstein and it’s a UK mobile.

I took the details from him and we spoke for a few moments just catching up on news, then he was gone and I was staring at the note pad on my lap. The name rang a few minor, very distant bells, deep in my brain, but that was all. Maybe she was an old girl friend from my time in the army in Germany, then I thought what if it’s about some kid that she thought was mine? Shit! like I need that right now or at any time come to think of it. I went for a walk to have a breakfast at Tiffany’s, a cafe down the road and chatted with Paul and Tina the owners for a while. Then came back and readied to call the number. I would use Skype as it didn’t have a number that someone could call me back on, a trick there for the future people. An hour later I was sitting back around my pool and had the laptop, note pad and a can of beer.

Before I’d do anything, I must think through some basic scenarios and then come up with answers. As I was doing this I thought about the raspberry Longshanks sent me and softly chuckled, I had to admit he was a good friend, probably the only true one I have ever had or will have.

Ed Woods: AKA. Long Shanks. Aged 42 and at 4’ 8" tall he is a true Midget and would be called nothing else, a small person was not name or label he would accept.

The difference between a Midget and a Dwarf is that a Midget is a person with the right proportion limbs, so I’m no bloody Dwarf. He would say.

He had Asian features with a bald head and a huge ginger beard, green eyes and black bushy eyebrows that I said he should comb back for hair.

Born to Chinese parents from the Chinese Embassy, something he found out later in life. He was abandoned at birth as they already had a child and was then brought up in a Doctor Barnardo’s home in London. His real name was unknown so he was named by the policeman who found him and like me is a crossword master and loves riddles and mysteries of any kind. Just not as good as me.

I have to say he is a strange little character but a very reliable one. Anyway, that’s enough about Longshanks, back to the phone call. With the laptop in hand I’m finding dialling the number on Skype a problem, let’s face it I’m not a strong, brave forward go and do anything bloke. Never have been, I can worry about having nothing to worry about.

Moments later I tap out the number and hit the blue call button, I’m excited and scared all at once, a bit like your first attempt at sex. Mine was a nightmare and very embarrassing. I reminded myself as the sound of the dial tone filled my ears, I find that I’m tense and I’ve involuntarily shallowed my breathing, why I don’t know and when the number isn’t answered I breathe a huge sigh of relief.

At least I control when I want to talk to Monica, if that’s her real name. I tell myself twice.

Chapter 2

The room had just one small lamp on the table which was switched on showering the phone with its illumination. Sitting next to it, shrouded in the darkness was a shadowy figure, soundlessly smoking a pipe. Every time he drew on the pipe it slightly lit up his face showing his tobacco stained teeth and dark eyes. The man exhaled slowly through his nose, savouring the taste of the expensive tobacco mixture. WO Larsen, hand pressed. $1,000 for 3.5 oz. He had expensive tastes in everything, but then he could afford to, money wasn’t the drive for him like it used to be. When you can buy whatever you want, what’s left? What you cannot buy with money of course, and that is just what he wanted. The phone rang and he picked it up, Speak.

She’s made contact, what now?

Watch, follow and do nothing but keep me informed of their movements.

Without waiting for a reply, he put the phone down in its cradle and let himself have a small smile. Switching off the lamp he left the room and then the building, the voice on the other end looked at the phone in his hand. He knew the voice wasn’t English by the accent, but where it originated from he didn’t know or care as long as he was paid.

Chapter 3

The silence was deafening so I closed my eyes and sat back, well at least I tried to make contact with her, not my fault she wasn’t there. Right now, I’m thinking time for a nap or siesta as it’s known around here, laying back I pulled my cap over my eyes feeling happy. I must have dropped off as I was suddenly and rudely awakened by a lot of water being splashed over my face. FUCKING HELL. I shouted and half jumped and half fell off the sun bed, standing up straight away and far too quickly. My head swam as the blood sorted its self out inside me, in the pool was a football and two kids were standing at the top of the wall staring at me. I stared back at them and then slowly looked at the ball in my pool and the can of beer emptying on the floor

Sorry mister it was his fault not mine. One said; pointing at the other.

No it weren’t, you done it. Replied the second boy.

Alright lads no harm done just keep it down. I replied as I threw the ball over the wall. Getting another beer and sitting on the other sun bed I smiled to myself and wished I’d had a pound for every time I’d kicked the ball over in to someone’s garden. Sitting in the shade I was looking at the lap top with two imaginary devils one on each shoulder, both arguing about what to do about calling the number again.

Call her you gutless bastard.

No leave it, you’ve tried, no point in pushing the point further.

Show some back-bone son, you know you can’t leave a mystery alone. Call her.

Delete the number, throw the card away and go for a beer. You know it makes sense.

Unknown to me I was moving my head from side to side and a voice from the top of the wall dragged me back to the present. Penny for them or were you watching a tennis match? the voice said and giggled.

Looking up there was a woman in the place the two boys had been earlier, she had a nice smile and I guessed she was the boy’s grandmother by the grey hair. Not that I was going to say that, I’ve been wrong before. A few years ago, when offering my seat on the train to what I thought was a pregnant woman and commented that. You don’t have long to the birth luv please take my seat. She replied venomously Fuck off I’m not pregnant, you stupid old bastard.

Won’t be doing that again anytime soon. I could see she was waiting for a reply from me and as I was brought up and not dragged up I had to answer her. Caught between two devils. You must be the new owners? I smiled back before giving her my name. Rick Green. I said waving my hand at her.

Carol Jones, and no, it’s my son and wife who are the new owners. I’m here for a week with the grandsons, she’s having another baby right now. before we could continue the sound of boys fighting stopped all conversation. Got to go, you want to come around for a drink later Rick? I nodded as the sound became louder and she smiled, and then winked before dropping down from the wall.

Chapter 4

I didn’t really want to go for a drink, but manners decree I must. With that distraction over it was back to the laptop and the phone call, I spent some minutes just staring at the screen before making a decision. I’d need something stronger than a beer if I was to discover I had more kids. Back inside and after two large brandy’s I was ready. Again, I hit the blue call button and I was hoping that she wouldn’t answer it, if that happened then I am going to junk the card and phone number. My concentration on the screen was so intense that I didn’t even notice that sweat was dripping from my forehead on to the keyboard as it was flashing. Connecting.

Then the ring tone started and it seemed so loud, but that’s not what I heard, all I could hear was what a condemned man would hear while tied to the post facing a firing squad. Present Arms. Take Aim. FIRE. is what I am hearing and I could feel each bullet tear through my soft flesh. Mr Rick Green? a female voice in an American accent said and I jumped out of my seat as I was dragged back to earth by it.

Yes. I replied weakly.

Why am I so bloody nervous?

Really? you don’t sound very confident of that. cheeky bitch I said in my head. Yeah this is him, you must be Monica Angerstein. I replied trying to sound confident.

That’s correct, before she could continue I blurted out.

Look luv, if it’s about a kid, it aint mine and if it is I’m skint, pot less, mucho broko. Got it? when nervous I also just talk shit.

She gently laughed as she replied. Rick, it is okay to call you Rick? I silently nodded, like she could see me doing it, but by me not saying no she continued. Rick, you probably do not remember me, but we have met many years ago.

Like I said luv it’s not mine. I replied nervously, my comment must have touched her funny bone because she was openly laughing.

Rick, I was 5 when we met so I am sure we never had sex and there are no children involved. My grandfather asked me to find you, he said you owed him a favour and he would now like to cash it in. What it’s all about I do not know, he just said find you and ask you to meet him one more time. Gunter Angerstein do you remember him?

The cogs in my brain were all spinning at a thousand miles an hour, but nothing came to me, I wanted to say. Yeah, I remember him nice bloke your granddad I’ve always wondered what happened to him. But I couldn’t do that, his name was bouncing around my head like a bingo ball waiting to come out of the machine. Look Monica to be honest I don’t remember you or him, the name rings a very small bell but that’s all. Sorry.

She said nothing for a moment, probably trying to work out what to say next.

He said you may not remember him and that I should remind you about sharing an East German police cell with him in May 1981. He was amazed at your crossword skills and the fact you did a jigsaw puzzle upside down. Is that true? she couldn’t hide the scepticism in her voice.

It’s a bit of a party piece, yeah I remember him now. Old grey-haired bloke spoke really good English, black eyes as I recall. Nice bloke all the same.

Rick, I know this must be a shock, so if it’s all right with you I’ll leave you for now and call you again tomorrow?

Good idea luv, what time tomorrow? And I’d better give you my number

10 am

Okay speak to you then, I clicked the red end button.

I was still dumb struck by what had just happened. Gunter Angerstein. I repeated over and over in my head as I went back inside. Pouring another brandy and taking a bag of Walkers I sat down on my man chair, the memory of him and the two times I’d met him slowly filtered in to my head. Old black eyes. I’d nick named him.

Gunter Angerstein man of mystery or old wino, which I didn’t know at the time, how could I know?

. I’d nick named him.

Gunter Angerstein man of mystery or old wino, which I didn’t know at the time how could

Chapter 5

The door to the Mercedes Maybach 600 Special Custom Edition, was being held by a tall heavily built chauffeur and body guard, dressed completely in black with a peaked cap to match. A dark shadowy figure strolled confidently up to the open rear door, he handed his pipe to the man and sat on the expensive leather seat. The driver banged out the pipe on the heel of his shoe and walked to the driver’s door cleaning it as he went, while the door closed silently by itself. The rear of the car was isolated from the front by sound insulating glass and the dark figure touched the intercom button.

The Castle. he said in a short, cropped manner,

The driver replied with a short Sir. Then the car slowly and silently moved down the tree lined driveway.

Ivan Branko, the Russian driver had been chauffeuring for nearly 30 years and in his time he’d seen and heard many strange things. So, when cleaning the Maybach one day he found a hidden compartment in the boot, he had thought nothing of it. In it was a fold away wheel chair and a case with make up and masks in. He’d once driven a top Aide to the Kremlin, who got his rocks off by being tied naked to a chair while wearing a Micky Mouse mask and having 12 volts of electric cables run over his balls. What people did was no concern of his and he would never ask either.

A few minutes later the phone rang, Speak. Ordered the passenger.

She has arranged to call him tomorrow, I do not believe he yet has any idea why she wants him to see her grandfather.

Good. He is not to be harmed. ..Yet! clear? he replied as he put the phone down and poured himself a large Gin.

Chapter 6

Alexa play music from May 1981. Playing Adam and the Ant’s Stand and Deliver.

The music bounced off the walls and tiled floor as I laid back closing my eyes, I was transported back to Berlin 1981 and I was standing in the car pool area chatting with another of the army drivers. Bill Aden a tall thin Newcastle lad from the Fusiliers, he was the only one I really spoke with, the rest of the drivers were from the RCT. Rickshaws, Cabs and Taxis, as we called them.

I had been sent there due to a minor misjudgement on my part, I thought her husband was away on exercise at Sennelager ranges for two weeks and so did she. He wasn’t. Captain Hyde was sent back to camp with a bloody cold of all things, and as I’m hammering away at his wife he walks in and the rest is history, 24 hours later and I’m shipped out to Berlin.

It started, as I recall with a trip to East Berlin. I was to drive three Majors to meet with their counterparts from the East German army, the trip was scheduled for 5 hours. We passed through Check Point Charlie and set off down, Koch-Straße on to Oranien Strasse. Turning right down Alexandrinen Strasse, then left in to Ritter Strasse. Third right and stop outside the first building on Bergfried Strasse.

Unfortunately, there was a small complication to which I was not privy and couldn’t care less about either, all I was doing was counting down the days till I can finally get out of the fucking army, that shit wasn’t for me. As I found out later there had been a big bash for the head honcho in the camp and the three Majors were invited to stay. Now it would have been nice of them to tell me as I was sitting in the staff car waiting.

A knock on the window woke me from my sleep and a quick glance at my pocket watch told me I had been there for just under six hours. The pocket watch was my granddad’s and it was all I had to remind me of him, I took it everywhere with me.

Standing by the window was an East German woman solider, the Mark 4 Ford Cortina I was in had a broken window winder so I had to open the door. Guten Abend schöne Dame. Was ist ein nettes Mädchen wie du in einem scheiße Ort wie diesem? I said in my best German.

Good evening beautiful lady. What’s a nice girl like you doing in a shit place like this?

Waiting for a man just like you, she purred in what was very good English and threw me for a moment. We had been instructed that the other side as they were called, did employ females to try to latch on to us and extract information, at that moment I had another thing she could extract from me.

Your English is very good, better than my German anyway, do you have a name?

That is very true and yes, its Crista, I have been sent here to inform you that the three officers will be staying overnight. You are to accompany me to our quarters, where we have prepared a room for you for the night.

Now the three officers could possibly be being held against their will and even tortured as I looked at the woman standing in front of me. Did I give a shit? NO.

Bill, who had been on the driving team a lot longer than me, had told me that there are only two things the Eastern birds want from you. 1, a way of getting to the West and 2, US Dollars. They will do almost anything for green backs apparently so make sure you take some. He said we would normally carry about $50 in his socks, as you can get a lot of fanny for that and it was always good.

The car door opened and Crista got in, she directed me to a barrack block a few minutes away. Whatever army you are in the accommodation is always the same, basic and crap. This time was no different, she showed me down a long corridor to my room. I always carried an overnight bag in the boot of the car, another one of Bill’s advices. The room was sparse but clean, Crista said she would return in five minutes to take me to the mess hall.

I’d eaten in these places before and wasn’t expecting anything like the food we have, we used to joke about all the turnips they grew and changed the Monty Python song from spam, spam, spam to turnips, turnips, turnips. How do you like your Turnips fried or boiled. I joked to myself.

Maybe I’d hit a good day because the food this time was half decent, and it came with a full stein of beer. Having done a few of these trips I know that I’m not likely to find a Weatherspoon’s pub or Stringfellows any time soon, so a few beers and a shower is the best I can hope for.

That, as I found out, wasn’t what Crista and one of her friends had in mind, when they joined me in the shower. Now that should have been a great night, but as per normal it all went tits up really fast. Crista’s friend had an admirer who came to see her and found us all together in bed. Sound familiar?

He gets really upset and starts on me and having had a few beers more than I should have and not wanting to look bad in front of the girls, I broke his nose with a great punch. The bloke left holding a cloth to his bloody nose and as far as I was concerned it was done and dusted, sadly it wasn’t. As it turns out his brother was in the Stasi, the East German Secret Police. A few hours later while I am wallowing in masses of warm flesh and beer, they come and take me away in hand cuffs and I’m heading for the cells.

This is only going to end badly. I remember thinking at the time.

at the time.

Chapter 7

On a highly polished Walnut desk a mobile phone vibrates and buzzes around in slow circles, the man sitting at the desk moves only his eyes to watch the small lit up screen as the phone is revolving. He knew who it was calling, but he had not invited the caller to contact him. Stopping the phone, he hits the answer button, Speak.

I want to renegotiate the contract…$2,000,000 is not enough Mr…X

Choose your next words very carefully Black, as they may be your last. We have an agreement and I expect you to honour that, no exception.

An honourable man would have been more truthful, an honourable man wouldn’t lie. the caller waited patiently for an answer, threats meant nothing to him. Black was a cash only man, everything was for sale, even people if you had enough cash.

What do you want?

Another $1,000,000 plus 5% of the… What Black couldn’t see was the man on the other end of the phone. His eyes darkened as he glared at the phone.

$500,000 and zero percent. Take it or leave it Black, but should you choose to leave it then I will spend a hundred times that amount having you hunted down and I will feast on your still beating heart.

If I had one you could, your offer is accepted. Black said smiling.

He’d not expected to get anything.

Never ever call me again before I request you to, unless it’s extremely urgent. Do you understand BLACK? He said loudly and with a large amount of venom.

Black forced down a snigger and before he could cancel the call it was cut off for him, he smiled for a long time. Stanley Kevin Arkwright loved his alias Black, he got the name from his favourite TV show when he was a kid. Captain Scarlet, the baddie in the show was Captain Black and he was the one he liked the best.

Black was an Ex SBS and Shayetet 13. He’d also spent 4 years working for the Russian Mafia, before going free-lance. He was a fearless, heartless natural killer, he’d trace, track and kill anyone if the money was right.

He was a man with no morals or any sign of a hint of humanity, because he believed these were clear signs of weakness. There was one exception, his mum. What he’d never realised was that these were the very traits that make us human. There is nothing outstanding or special about him, which means he can easily blend in anywhere and to look at him you would never guess that he is a cold-hearted killer.

Chapter 8

So, I’m being dragged down a dark, damp smelling corridor towards what, I had no idea, except that it was probably going to hurt a lot and then some. The aroma left a lot to be desired as did the peeling paint work, a few good extractor fans and some windows wouldn’t have gone amiss. Now my German is not good but I could just about understand what they were saying, and yep a good kicking was coming my way. They were waiting for the bloke whose nose I had broken and his brother as I understood it. The four guards kicked open the cage door and hurled me in head first, bouncing twice I came to a halt against a fixed bed. They slammed it shut but only after they had all spat at me, I in return gave them the customary Agincourt salute. On the only other bed was what seemed like a lifeless body, one loud fart informed me he was still alive and by the smell a street wino.

I sat on the bed for a moment and then stripped the dirty cloth that was a pillow case and stuffed it down the front of my pants. I’d been banged up before and knew what they would go for, next I wanted to see if there was anything I could defend myself with. Nope nothing. The old boy in the other bed started to stir and soon sat up, throwing off some of the blankets. I could now see he was no wino, just a drunk bloke with a badly gashed left arm. The open wound should have been dressed before he was put in here especially in a shit hole like this one. I took a piece of my vest and tore it into strips, then taking his arm I bound it the best I could given the circumstances.

I gave him a silly grin and he smiled back with his tobacco stained teeth and spoke in German, I replied in English. Sorry mate my German aint that good.

Ah you are English, thank you. He said and coughed for a moment. Do you have a cigarette?

Nah sorry mate, don’t smoke. he studied my face for a moment,

What is an English solider doing in a Stasi prison?

Broken nose, I replied grinning.

You do not have a broken nose my friend.

Not me, the other bloke, he and his brother are coming here soon to settle the score. Best you stay out of the way old man, this isn’t going to be pretty or fun.

My name is Angerstein. Gunter Angerstein and you?

The lads call me Prof, its short for Professor. Although my real name is Rick Green.

It’s a Pleasure to make your acquaintance, which name do you prefer?

Prof. I replied

Hey Englander, they’re coming for you. Good luck. A voice from another cell called out, I moved away from the old man as I didn’t want him to get hurt and readied myself, my plan was a simple one.

Hit the first one as hard as I could and drop in to the ball position and wait for them to get bored with hitting me.

I heard the men coming, the sound of the metal heels on the concrete floor let me know that they were wearing jack boots, and that meant their kicks where really going to hurt, sitting on the edge of the bed I had my right foot jammed against the wall to use as push off. The five men appeared and unlocked the door slowly, they opened it and waited outside. Probably trying to scare me but there was no need as I was shitting myself as it was. The one with the broken nose came in first, I lowered my eyes as a sign of defeat. It worked, he took three confident paces in to the cell and I sprang up, one good punch was all I was going to get and he got it. Broken nose number two. I thought smiling.

He staggered back as the rest drew their weapons, then to my utter amazement the old man stood up throwing the blankets off him. He was taller than I had thought and his eyes bore in to the men, and they were so dark it was like he had two huge pupils and no iris to speak of. "He barked something off in German, it was so fast I had no idea what he said and didn’t need to. I know what a military voice sounds like and they’re the same in any language, this one was used to being obeyed that much I was sure of.

The five men left running and a few minutes later one returned with a tray of coffee and cakes, under his arm was a newspaper. He gently placed the tray down like it was a bomb, snapped to attention saluted and left.

Coffee Prof? said the old man

I stared at this man who only moments ago I had thought was the town piss head. Who the fuck are you mate?

I told you my name…ah it seems I forgot to add. Generaloberst. The closest I can think of is Lieutenant General.

Yes, you fucking did…do I call you Sir or Gunter?

Gunter, I think, yes or no to coffee?

Yes thanks, what…what the fuck are you doing here, I mean you’re a bloody General?

I come here sometimes to see how the men are doing and my wife cannot find me here.

We drank our coffee in silence and as the paper was open on the crossword page I was studying it, he noticed and asked. "You read German?

No, I’m just a crossword freak, and pretty good at them. That’s where I get the name Prof from, and I can do jigsaw puzzles upside down without looking at the picture.

My god that is a rare talent. Okay Prof I will translate and you see if you can answer the cryptic clues. he rattled off the clues and I instantly gave him the answers to every question. Amazing.

"That’s nothing I can do the Times crossword in under 5 minutes I bragged.

Chapter 9

I spent a few hours with old Gunter before my three officers showed up and yes, they were an unhappy crew, I was double marched out and back to the staff car. But these three jokers wanted to make an example of me, so I had to double behind them in the car all the way to the check point. Wankers. I thought.

Anyway, back at camp and I know I’m in for a proper roasting from the MT Colonel, who like