Operation "The Black Thunder"

OPERATION

The BLACK Thunder

MICHAIL BAIRACHNIY

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© 2012 by Michail Bairachniy. 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 09/13/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4772-3043-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-3044-2 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-3045-9 (e)

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Contents

Part One

—Mysterious Letter—

New Case

Home

Part Two

—1—

—2—

—3—

—4—

—5—

—6—

—7—

—8—

—9—

—10—

—11—

—12—

—13—

—14—

PART ONE

—Mysterious Letter—

THE OUTSIDE THE storm raged. Wind howled madly in branches of century-old oaks, broken dry branches, shook window panes, and the rain gray strands are declining from the clouds, and probably thought pitched. Somewhere nearby lightning struck an isolated tree crushed it in half, and it caught fire, despite the downpour. Then the sound of growing thunder, and so strong that it seemed the glass in the windows will not survive, will fall to the floor. All living hid the jungle, to wait evil weather, bad weather and not made up any impression on a few people . . .

In ancient castle, built in the days of antiquity, in a small room, which was the only attire big oak table at different too old work armchair that stood around the table sat nine people. Obviously, neither thunder from lightning, nor furious wind let them do their work, which an outside observer would have seemed very strange.

Men holding hands on a table covered with a red cloth, three candles burned in the middle in high candlesticks and stood silver tray, which also burned fat, black candle. Beside her lay a dagger, black unremarkable coli, was a silver cup with water. Before gray, with stringent Nordic composition face a man lay open book. First glance would be enough to guess—it was very valuable, old books, sheathed in black morocco, with gold clasps, and had a very impressive size.

Nothing disturbed the silence, except for the weather, which abounded for windows moderate crackling candles and barely audible breathing present. Gray looked around at all intrusive eyes and raspy voice said:

-Are you ready for the sacrament?

-Ready, your honor—one voice filled men.

-Is your open-heart and soul?

-Open, your honor.

-Do open your mind?

-Clear, your honor.

Face gray suddenly became solemn appearance, and he loudly said:

-I, Wilhelm von Kraynts, the supreme master of the Order, begins council. Just want to congratulate and welcome our new members. Gentlemen, present on your court Adolf. Stand up, Adolph.

The man got up, curious eye looked at board members. They also curiously staring at this stranger, which is not news where Kraynts dig, and it is not very attractive figure, caused them a feeling of disgust if not, then mistrust—for sure. Master warned in advance that the meeting of the council will be a new member, but so, at once, without consideration of candidates—it was the first time. In the history of the secret order, and it consisted of several hundred centuries, a new person came immediately to the council meeting. Always procedure conducted thorough examination candidate, and this time spent several years, and here you . . . Master saw almost perfectly fleer which board members examined a beginner and do not care—his word was decisive, but still had a little . . .

-I see you all like our new member. I will not go in his biography, and immediately go to it,—Master pulled out from under the table a thin folder, opened, gave everyone except new worshiper, on a sheet:

-Review. Adolf, you can sit down.

Kraynts from the forehead, with a faint smile, watched slowly extend face advisers, threw on some beginner interested views, spinning heads, obviously impressed read.

Adolf immediately noticed a change in attitude to yourself once Advisers finished reading. Now all looked on him as a friend, and immediately disappeared somewhere contempt, arrogance, and arrogance covenant inherent noble persons who above all put their family crest, and proud pedigree.

That’s his dream comes true, soon, very soon these arrogant earls, barons, dukes will be his absolute power, and then it will knock some of them pride compel obedience, and woe to those who will be on its way.

Evidently, Adolf was so engrossed in dreams that are not felt contemptuous smile itself appeared on the face and sharp look skip from one counselor to another, as if it already decided the fate of every visitor. And Kraynts would not master the most powerful of the Order, if not a good psychologist, and still had a bunch of other abilities, which even members of the council—and they do not all know.

Pain in temples made Adolf throw a frightened glance at the master, and he understood—is behaving very aggressively and forgot what Master taught, but it can be bad end. Potter whiskey, lowered his eyes. The pain quickly passed, and the head appeared stern voice of the master:—Do not forget who you are.

It happened one day suddenly wilted and Adolf—something he had heard about the ability Kraynts, but that he had telepathy so freely . . .

-All agree?—Said the master.—Please, gentlemen, express their comments, suggestions—it is too serious, we must consider all well.

The first replied Otto von Grabbe—Deputy Kraynts.

-Adolf, you completely voluntarily agree to undergo a rite of passage. I think you were warned about all possible consequences, and you do not deny?

The man jerked up and looking straight ahead, a military clearly answered:

-Yes, I realize the great mission and honor that had me and voluntary consent.

Master waved his hand to him:

-You can reply sitting. Here are all equal, all brothers. There are still questions?

He raised his hand Helmuth von Brahms:

-Young man, you’re half-Jew. You will have to fight with his people. That you do not care? I think you go to church as a child, my mother taught you probably read the Bible, and you should know—the son of God, Jesus, the son of Judah. On his divinity—the big question, but Judaism—that does not exist.

Adolf looked up, but saw not Brahms—he looked at the Masters. He bowed his head almost imperceptibly, as if allowed to answer, and Adolph said—Dear Helmute, hope you carefully read my signature. There’s clearly all my responsibilities that come automatically after undergoing the rite of passage. For my origin . . . Sure—just the fact that my father was a Jew, apply a powerful blow to the church because Christians worshiping son Jew as you just noted. I think that sort of nuance will bring quite significant dividends. Do you understand my point?

Brahms He looked at him in surprise, then Master nodded approvingly:

-Yes, a certain piquancy is here. Gentlemen, I personally am impressed by this young man, and I agree.

Counselors nodded, in turn expressing their consent than pleased Kraynts, although he knew, and so—to find someone who would be agreed on this, is extremely difficult, and this young man, barely heard him offer, immediately agreed. Just like that, no questions asked, and reasoning—agreed, and everything! Master knew what thoughts swirling in my head candidate, and they did not interest—agreed the man himself, voluntarily, and that the most important thing. The fact was that he could make absolutely every man to undergo terrible rite, but then the consequences would be unpredictable. Already several times tried to order take their innermost desires, and every time resorted to force principle, the situation went out of control and eventually fathers Order abandoned hazardous experiments, waiting for the right time. And so it has come—here, now, sits a man who agreed to undergo the rite . . . Without doubtful, that all was as it should have to do much, and it is, as they say—the details. After the ceremony no one recognizes this man—he will change; will be able to lead the crowd that he would be fantastic slogans she had quit. And he, the master, take care, that all was as it should.

-Gentlemen, in the sacred hall are done. Wait till midnight—Master got up, walked to the closet. Opened the door, took out a thick book shelf, and stuck his hand. Something clicked barely audible in the wall; closet began to rotate, opening the metal door. Kraynts entered the code, the door quietly opened. Dampness caught a whiff, the smell of burned candles.

-Please, Sir,—Master pointed to the door.

Adolf was the last—as demanded charter Order. He first went down to the sanctuary, but somehow did not feel fear or confusion—he did not care what would happen in an hour. Thoughts disappeared somewhere in my head was empty, as if in a pocket beggar. Mentally Adolf counted ladder: ten, twenty . . . About Me said:—We went down to twelve meters. Deep.

Forty-four stairs and then back metal door, covered with a pattern queer characters. Master again entered the code, the door opened. Bright light from hundreds of candles thick struck by his eyes made an instant squinted eyes and froze rookie from sight. . . .

The huge room was impressive not only for its size—in the middle he noticed two large circles, and within the five-pointed star. The edges of the circle stood eight candles height of two feet, yet many of the same flickered in hanging on the walls candlesticks. Immediately after lap was very strange building—apparently something like a fireplace, but the pipe was not visible. Sideways Stone was a narrow table made of red marble. Near the table a low table on which a dimly gleaming daggers, silver cup, and burning black candle.

While Adolf looked covered hitherto unknown feelings, counselors disappeared somewhere. He shook his head, but they like through the floor failed. Dumbfounded, walked a few steps to the circle, and froze. Seen so impressed get down, made some small, insignificant, that he wanted to run away from here, away from the mysterious halls, away from these gloomy walls, black candles shine ancient weapons hanging on the walls, and now this fearful darkness, which seemed could not dispel even light.

-Adolf, held in the corner, takes off your clothes!—Voice boomed so suddenly that he was frightened, bent, feet treacherously shaken. He turned around, but saw no one. Held his hand on her cheek, rubbed his eyes, and moved into a corner. They saw the chair. Slowly began to undress. In the dungeon was damp, cool, but the body somehow did not feel cold—on the contrary, he was getting warmer. Adolph tossed on top panties, squeezed her arms. He stood, waiting for further instructions.

In the center of the circle among the stars suddenly flashed a bright light, a thick column of smoke reached the ceiling. Adolf covered face defending from the flash, and when removed the arm dumb—on both sides of the circle stood a high figure, dressed in a red cloak, with sword in hand. On his head gleamed oddly shaped helmet—a strange sign at the top, two horns on either side, took that completely covered their face, so voice sounded muffled, mysterious. This man’s voice commanded to be in the middle of the circle. Adolf slowly walked barefoot on the cold stone floor, not taking the view was a circle. The figure somehow miraculously moved to the stone, freeing up space. The candidate stood in the center of the star, looked out around him—seven figures are not known as having almost beside him, stood on the outside, white circle. The inner, red slightly less, the man in front of both sides of his helmet became frightened Adolf.

-All ready?—Voice boomed.

-Ready!

-Adolf, comes to me—told the master. He approached. Looking through the cracks claimed, trying to catch sight of Master, but could not. Master grabbed his left arm, dragged to the table. Hold your hand on the cup, subtle movement made an incision. Blood flowed in a silver bowl, Adolph eyes wide open staring at the red liquid.

-Stand in a circle—Master commanded. Adolf turned and looked at the wound. Surprisingly, blood was dry and no longer flowed through the cut was quite deep.

Master, holding the cup in his left hand, opened the black book and began to read a monotonous voice. Probably no one but himself did not understand the sacred text for face advisers were indifferent gray and seemed to fly their thoughts elsewhere and they are not present in this world indoors and flew after him.

The further reading master, the atmosphere became pressing concern. Originally quietly but increasingly stronger, brighter flared candle with air slowly began to buzz with the black hole Stone sounded muffled sound like a whining wolves, then gradually evolved into a solid hum. Sam Stone gradually began to light up red and ome light became brighter, until there is not broke bloody ray, hit the ceiling, just head over to death frightened candidate, and not struck him down any harm.

Master pour out to the altar blood, have raised arms mount, and cried:

-I am thy servant, and servant, I ask you to come, the prince of darkness, accept this sacrifice!

In altar ring out as if there exploded grenade. Then a red light slowly began to fade, and a loud roar from which ants crawled back, blood freeze in the veins, head was spinning and his legs refused to hold the body. It felt newly adept Adolf, and it was only the beginning. He tried to turn his head sideways to look at the silent figure by the white circle, and seen the same stand still eyes, hands crossed on his chest, and boundless fear from which advisers shake as in fever.

-We bring you a sacrifice, O immortal!—Cried the master.—Take it gives us strength, vigor execute plans in your honor and your glory! Send us reinforcements in his angels, messengers bloody battle! You—our only lord, you only worship and praise forever!

Knocked altar again, a gust of wind swept through the room, the flames of candles washed the floor, but none extinct. Then the red beam flew from the altar, reflected the gold shield that hung in front of the center circle and hit the bend double from fright figure. Adolf staggered, fell on its side. Vitreous eyes stared without looking up at the altar, and he thought he saw a creature—a giant, horned head, mouth, studded with teeth, and mocking smile . . . Yes, monster smiled to him, and whether he felt something? Probably not. And maybe so? . . .

*     *     *

Awakening turned out terrible—Adolf understands not where he is, what happens to it. The body, as if poured lead burden refused to obey, his eyes have seen the surrounding objects as if in a fog, head was buzzing, and seemed about to split into pieces. Most of all, he preferred to appear somewhere in the fresh air, hear this fellow dull smell of burned candles, measured sound bell, which was given a pain in my temples. Finally managed to get back on one side, and then closed his eyes—he lay in a white circle. Naked, helpless, and next was empty. I wanted to shout, and the voice stuck in his throat, and he only spills:

-Where am I?

The response was silence . . . Droned bell pulled burnt in the hall became darker, because most of the candles black ruin. I tried to get up. First slowly, then began to arrive from somewhere strength, and he stood still. He stood, stunned drove eyes and suddenly remembered the staff of this monster who smiled to him from the black hole of the altar. So all appear whether the reality? As if from nothing to him heard alarmed voice of the master:

-Adolf, you saw our master?

Adolf started at the voice, but surprisingly, quickly came to his senses—he felt in his hitherto unseen force that overwhelmed him, and seemed about to begin to flow, and he kept the power.

-Yes, I saw it. He smiled to me—a firm voice said Adolph. Unprecedented feeling of lightness in the body, a clear head, strong arms and legs—he became a different person, he became powerful! You do not want to remember the entire mysterious rite, fear that he experienced over there, in the sacred hall—now there was a desire to act! Yes, it is full of amazing energy, it can work wonders, and it will make them, their innermost dreams! Kraynts said something to him, but Adolf was in the same condition when there was no desire to listen to anyone, and even more so—to answer. He clearly saw the future, and it immediately liked it. He will be great, he rises to the same top Fame, where he had not been able to climb a single person!

Adolf Kraynts pulled by hand and finally forced him down on the ground. Displeased unceremonious interference in their dreams, Adolf roughly pulled his hand:

-Venture me Kraynts. I feel great, and do not put pressure on me. It is better to join in their affairs.

Master of surprise widely opened eyes, grabbed the air mouth—he did not expect to see such sudden changes, although it would have predicted. Instead, only shook his head, instructive tone uttered:

-Do not forget, young man. I do not advise to put him above the order for poorly accomplished.

Adolf would already tell a bunch of nasty words before this boob self-assured, and even opened his mouth, and so it froze—a sharp pain in my temples twisted it in half, lightning pierced the neck, back, and stopped at the buttocks. Feet shaken, cold sweat spill forehead, and he fell on the bed, squeezed his head with his hands, gave animal cry:

-Please, do not! So everything from fatigue, I swear, I faithfully serve the Order . . .

And then he stopped, and only body trembled, covered with wild pain. Kraynts squeezed brutal smile, held at the head of those poor hand, shook his hand, as if dropped something invisible. Adolf ceased to quiver—the pain soon passed, and eventually he took his hands from face pleadingly looked at the master, blubbering, and seemed about to cry.

-I regret that received your request, allowed to pass the sacred rite. Yes, I made a mistake, you’re not the kind of person you are too greedy for glory, but we need a man who without objection perform our orders. I’m sorry, but I cannot turn everything into place. You got unprecedented ability for nine years, and by the end of this period, nothing to my great regret, no change. The only thing that deter you—it is a pain. And remember—you will not obey, he will become your daily companion, and bring to the grave sooner than you think,—Kraynts stood up, sighed like a very tired man, and slowly left the room.

Adolf an hour sitting on the bed, opposing opinions raged fierce in his brain, and he knew one thing—that there is another Adolf, but there it is—the new holder of the world..

== 2 ==

Fuhrer anxiously studied the paper. So far everything went according to plan, and some tycoons began questioning him too grand ambitions. Banged his fist on the table, angrily whispered:

-Nothingness! What me your money—then zilch. I am the one who saw the prince of darkness, I can conquer the world, but you cry in their millions. I’ll give you a hundred times over. If was worth of . . .

Reached down, pulled the bell. In the study became personal secretary Folke. He raised his hand in a Nazi greeting, and waved his Fuhrer, to he paused. Beckoned finger commanded:

-Schulz to me. Urgent.

Secretary famously snapped heels, clearly back and forth gently lean a massive door. Hitler sat motionless for a moment, then abruptly got up, went to the wall hung a screen, rejected it aside. Folded his hands behind his back, carefully studied the map. Repeatedly turned away, raised his head up, barely audible whisper then back to the map, from your favorite things distracting Secretary who went without a call. Fuhrer dissatisfied with wrinkled brow He looked angrily at Folke:

-What happened?

-My Fuhrer, here, just delivered—Folke stretched grayish package bowed. Hitler meticulously inspected package, but the hands did not take—it looked too suspicious. From the forehead looked at his secretary:

-Open, Folke.

Secretary searched his eyes on the table knife for papers, found his usual motion cut package. Looked inside, took out four times folded sheet reversed, inquiring eyes upon Hitler, if requested permission to read, and he took a sheet, quickly ran through the eyes of the writing. Eyes slowly climbed the mountain; he went to the table and sat down in a chair. He raised his eyes, jerked fingers pointing to Folke disappeared.

-Yes, yes, and this is interesting—muttering to himself Fuhrer, and slowly changed the face. When finished reading the letter, threw it on the table, stretched, stretching your back and grunted with satisfaction:

-Now you are in my hands, gentlemen Crusaders. Now I dictate conditions and see which of us stupid, devil, and most importantly—you’ll feel my true strength, I will knock on your pride, dear master.

Caused Folke. When he came in, ordered:

-Folke, immediately call Dr. Claus. While no—take the car and immediately help our it here.

Secretary jerked—he does not abandon his post and seen stern look Fuhrer, burnout ran out of the office . . . Folke . . . raced overcrowded streets of Berlin, every second pressed the klaxon, seeking to step aside, and he also happens entered for special marks on the car pointed—this car has extraordinary privileges.

He twisted the wheel, frantically pressed the pedal, and head throbbed unfortunate opinion—he did not have time to even glimpse read what was written in this letter, what is urgently Fuhrer Klaus—Dr. archeology and specialist in Asia. Folke was a member of a secret order, and had a special task—follow Fuhrer, reread all correspondence and immediately notify the master in case of interesting information. The secretary was sure—now it should have become aware, content writing, and here is how to do it, it is not yet known.—Or at least announce the urgent call Claus?—Thought Folke, looking through the eyes of a telephone booth. For a moment, looked in the rearview mirror—for it, without losing speed, raced unfamiliar car. That him may follow, Folke even thought—too big bird was secretary of the Fuhrer, to thus unceremoniously tear about him, and for years no one gains the habit of trust, forced to change the route slightly. Cars drove him two quarters and turned the other way. Folke sighed with relief—the nerves, the nerves pass. He is fully aware of what awaits him in the event of exposure, and although it had firm guarantees from the Master, who assured—Fuhrer never dare to ignore the order, was able to spin. He knew that butchers working in the Gestapo, and did not intend to get there, even when behind you alone Order . . .

That’s the home of Dr. Claus. Folke jumped out of the car, quick steps up to the second floor, pressed the call button. Silence. Pressed again, and this time holding call on until he heard the door anxious voice:

-Go, go!

The door opened, and before the secretary of Hitler appeared senile figure.

-Dr. Klaus?—Said Folke.

-Yes, owes Mr. Officer?—Klaus looked inquiringly at the intruder, although the form of the SS point—you should not ask.

-You urgently waiting for one person. Immediately dress—strictly Folke said. Klaus looked back at the officer, and no one saw, but he knew for sure—had come to arrest you and sent soldiers, and this gentleman was one. This slightly changed the opinion of professor, and he invited Folke to the apartment:

-Please wait for me here. I’m too old to get dressed quickly and I cannot—like Klaus apologized and Folke did not listen—he was another trouble—message to the Order.

While the old dressing, Folke hard thinking: Professor impair call from street machine, and . . . And suddenly it dawned upon saving idea—it notifies master the phone professor! He knew for sure—the old do not listen, and he does not figure to be interested secret police, and asked:

-Doctor, I have to make an urgent call. Where is your phone?

From the other room came the voice of the professor:

-On a table near the kitchen.

Folke dialed. The call came, but on the other side have been slow to take up. Secretary nervous—he did not want to hear old a word. Finally rough voice asked the caller. Folke called conditional word password, shut the receiver with his hand, and said to call Professor Klaus to Hitler, and a mysterious letter. Subscriber silently listened, said nothing, and immediately hung up. Folke sighed with relief—the deed is done, and now no one will suspect.

-I’m ready, sir officer,—old stood in the hallway. Secretary twitched:

-What? And, well, gone.

*     *     *

Klaus, depressed by the fact where he fell, finely shaken, in senile squinted eyes and staring at the Fuhrer. He smiled indulgently, patted the old shoulders, invited to sit down. Klaus sat kraychyk chairs, upholstered NE hat in hand—a challenge to the first person he does not state could not explain to myself and waited patiently for what he wants from the Fuhrer. But he was in no hurry—measured pacing soft carpet throw Klaus interested views, what finally knocked the old confused, and he ventured:

-How can I serve the Fuhrer of Germany?

Hitler stopped, threw meaningful glance at the professor, nodded, and sat down at the table. Crossed his arms, cheerful voice said:

-Professor seems you—great expert on Asia. I am not mistaken?

Klaus sighed with relief—if raised about his former job, and not so scary. He cheered up and even squeezed likeness smile:

-Yes, my Fuhrer, but I have to correct something—I was only region of Tibet, and this—please forgive—not all of Asia.

Hitler itched lower lip nervously—he is well acquainted with a map of the world, who wished to win, and did not want to be pulled in dispute. Instead, with emphasis said:

-I am also very interested in Tibet. Say you know well thence places?

Klaus shrugged, and with a bitter smile, said:

-How well I know Tibet? Yeah, I lived there for twenty years, and I think that studied it enough though that in this world you can explore thoroughly? It takes more than one life . . . Do you agree?

Fuhrer was agreed, and he did not have much time, because every day remembered warning Kraynts—only nine years . . .

Potter cheek, said:

-And what is this you are interested in CS wild mountains? I think you have a good reason to spend much of his life to the study of distant countries. I’d like to know about the cause.

Klaus smiled enigmatically, itched tip mustache:

-You know, I think, the Tibet—the most mysterious place on the planet. Yes, do not laugh—Klaus noticed how his lips twitched into a smile Hitler—do not laugh—the beliefs, legends Tibetans, is there is a mysterious place—Shambala. I managed to learn something, and unfortunately had to return—had some circumstances that forced me to leave Tibet.

Hitler threw up eyebrows:

-And what prevented you continue to work?

Klaus wilted, looked away—he did not want to recall long-past events that have left their painful memories and or had to hide them from Hitler? Samples, no—carry to the Gestapo, and tell all there, it’s better not to wait for the torture, anyway this conversation and ends empty chatter.

-I managed to pick up close to Shambala—mysterious country gods. I would say better—for my version live there or ancient people or immigrants from other worlds. I know it seems absurd, but a lot of evidence pointing exactly my point. To then I had the equipment, which is manufactured now . . . Then I could only dream about it.

Hitler, after hearing the story of professor, originally wanted to cause Folke, and ordered him to drive crazy, but suddenly changed his mind—he still heard something about a country or locality where ancient legends live extraterrestrial beings, but it was not that he sought. But now knocked unconscious in the brain:—That Shambala—that is exactly what you need. Find it—you will have the key to world domination . . .

-Professor, I did not hear who or what—you hurt?—Reminded Fuhrer-Russians—briefly answered Claus. He did not expect such a response to your answer, because the Fuhrer suddenly shuddered, eyes frantically ran across the face of Professor, and in a moment he mastered himself, quietly asked:

-Are you sure it was just the Russians? Think well of this much matters.

-Yes, I have no doubt—n. Even much later, here in Germany, I accidentally learned that he head RC Dzherzhynskyy very interested in nothing but a Shambhala.

-Dzerzhinsky—corrected him Hitler.—And you say that he was interested in Mason mysterious country, I mean—the area?

-I apologize—Polish names are strange—Klaus wilted and added:

-That’s what I wanted to say. They watched us, that is—my expedition, and when the locals who helped us said that the Russians plan to secretly kill us, I could not help it, how to draw the work and return home. You see, I financed the expedition at his own expense, nobody was interested in my research, and the money I had enough. We had to pay for everything—provisions, donkeys, leaders, and my friends need some kind of compensation for the years of work.

-And that Germany can get, if Shambhala is found?—Asked Fuhrer.—I am not referring to scientific experiments and practical application, although he first hurt.

Klaus was silent—how could he explain to this man, who for several years has been the sole master of a country that Shambhala—then everything unlimited power on the planet, to visit distant stars, to know the cosmic laws invent many unseen devices . . .

-Go down to the ground, Professor—Voice Hitler forced the old shudder. He drew back his head in shoulders apologetically inhaled nose:

-Sorry, I’m dream.

And Klaus could not resist—began to paint a picture of the future that will become a reality when finding Shambhala, and establish contacts with its inhabitants. Hitler quickly imbued with dreams professors, because they are too precisely coincided with his personal quest to become the sole ruler of the world. Now his ambitions began to extend than one planet Earth—he was so engrossed in the story of Claus that term wanted to add to it and all other worlds, who will find in the universe.

But Klaus did not let up—otherwise he would have made of excellent science fiction, but neither the professor nor Fuhrer single moment doubted that such is possible, just need to find Shambala delivered to him, and ancient knowledge of river flow, followed by and all that so beautifully narrated old adventurer.

-So what are the prospects facing the man when she can do what I said—wearily leaning back in his chair, finished his amazing story of Professor Klaus still very unaware that he have raised a storm in the ambitious interlocutors. Fuhrer just shook his head, as if shaking fabulous nonsense, and they have stood before my eyes. Fascinated, agitated imagination, and he would confront a very different vision of what he has done. So, it’s not nonsense old scientist, and he will send a new, well-equipped expedition, find Shambala, agree with its inhabitants, will receive extensive knowledge and become master of the world.

-Professor, I insist, that you led an expedition to Tibet. Actually—it will be the supervisor and all organizational matters serve the younger man. I, given your age, do not want to bother you everyday problems. Do not ask your permission—we Reich needed big Germany. It seems you live alone?

Klaus nodded

-Yes, my Bertha died last year. I still miss her . . .

have settled in the hotel. Right here you will be taken to him and ask—no, I insist, no contact with outsiders. This is for your protection—Hitler pressed, entered Folke. Fuhrer said:

-Schultz arrived?

-For half an hour waiting in the waiting room, my Fuhrer—reported Folke, not taking the piercing gaze from the professor. Hitler casually caught this view, pretended not to notice, ordered:

-Call Schulz.

Entered young well-dressed in civilian people, he congratulated Hitler usual Nazi salute, which was very strange, because while he Fuhrer came shook moon-hand. Showed the professor:

-Meet Professor Klaus. Professor, this is my assistant with personal tasks Schultz. You can just call him Gunther. He will not mind. However, Gunther?

-No, my Fuehrer, will be useful as a charge,—said Schultz. Hitler took his hand, held in the next room, pointed to a chair:

-Sit down, my boy. Now carry professors to our hotel to oversee it—like me. No calls, contacts—complete isolation. Of course, the professor must receive all desires—food, drink—in short everything. Protection treble all in civilian disguise, Gunther, your head is responsible for Klaus. More . . . Not that I like folk. Set the clock monitoring him; listen to conversations, checking everyone who communicates. Well, you do not have to teach. Once arrange professor urgently find Schwartz. I’m waiting for him, and let him go down with a secret move. I do not want Folke saw him.

-If you suspect Folke, why not command his arrest?—Surprised at the order, said Schultz. Führer waved his finger under his nose, subdued voice:

-I suspect not. I know for sure—he is spying me. I still noticed him an unhealthy interest in some of my cases, but today . . . Today he showed too much interest in my meeting with the professor. Here let your people and convince me that I’m wrong—instructive tone said Fuhrer.—Stop talking, take Claus and send Schwarz.

*     *     *

Thirty handsome William Schwartz, whose friends and called—handsome, sat at the table, listening to Hitler, drank beer, which no one else of Hitler did not allow himself to do. However, no one could see this, because people Schwartz behaved as like Officer Reich, and would never dare to even say the word—beer. Now William drank beer and listened Fuhrer.

-You all right understand?—Asked Fuhrer when he finished his half-hour speech.

Schwartz moved glass, handkerchief wiped his lips:

-And you believe him? No, I will fulfill all of your orders, but something strikes me as too fantastic. Shambala, which nobody has yet found, although almost everyone knows where to look ancients, aliens. Everything sounds pretty strange. But the Russians did not find it?

Hitler dissatisfied snorted:

-That you and learn. Probably not, but you must find. Keep professor, he is still valuable to us. Do you have to prepare the operation two weeks? Willie, my boys again warn—absolute secrecy. Absolute! Klaus no one should know. Find the best hairdressers, change his appearance, and today is take him to our castle.

-It will be done, my Fuhrer. Unless I die . . .—assured Schwartz rising.

Fuhrer boiled:

-You have no right to die, my dear Willie! Remember it yourself.

*     *     *

Four absolutely identical cars from `rates went from Hitler and everyone went in different directions, each sat on two people, and if he carefully looked outside, then pretty surprised—all passengers as drivers are similar, like twins.

In the ‘Mercedes’, standing nearby, sat three. When left first car, the driver turned on the engine, and have wanted to move for him when the back of his shoulder lay a heavy hand:

-Take your time, Dietrich, wait again.

But when after the gate left three identical cars, passengers Mercedes were nervous. One burly, broad-brimmed hat in black, swore through his teeth:

-Who are crap? We were not warned that . . .

That . . . we cheated?—Proved another.—This game we lost, let’s at least trace at least by one. Assist cause late. I recognize the work of Schwartz; he unsurpassed master of things like that. Dietrich. Let’s go for the latter.

-I’ve been offered a handsome finish thereof, as you persisted,—darkly muttered the man in a hat.—I do not understand you, Frederick.

-You would all kill, Otto, but whether it would help us?—He said.

Otto pulled a cigarette, lit released a cloud of smoke and said through clenched teeth:

-Maybe now had such a masquerade.

-And you learn in Boy. It works flawlessly—slyly said Frederick.

Otto frowned, pulled his hat still lower on the forehead, and muttered:

-I’ll get it anyway. Even though your order.

-And this is already too much, because then we will have to say goodbye to you, Otto. I will not tolerate any actions that constitute a threat to the operation—strictly said Frederick.

Mercedes is behind the Opel, though kept at a distance of three hundred yards. Of course, pursuing the idea that they can calculate, but Frederick Heinz decided to take a chance—had no other choice.

Opel made some rings at the streets of Berlin, and eventually left town and went to the ring road. Headlights pulled out of the darkness silhouette Opel, but he continued to drive at a constant speed, and Heinz understands—this is not the car, and they spend time in vain. He’s already thinking finish aimless pursuit, when suddenly from the side roads at breakneck speed flew truck. Dietrich turned steering wheel to the left, but too late—Rammed light truck Mercedes car broke in half, dropped out of the way, and he rolled the hill, throwing debris in all directions . . .

Heinz . . . opened covered with blood forever. The car was lying on the roof ponged gasoline, which came out of the smashed tank.—The smallest spark, and it burn, burn—sounded in my head, and there he saw a black figure. Then came two more Heinz stunned not all heard and VTI two began to pull him out of the broken car. He did not know, thanks for the rescue, or curse, because if people Schwartz, do not avoid casemates Gestapo, and there is serious guys, and it would be better to die right now, in the broken machine than try to torture yourself butchers 4—First Division. Wounded put on a stretcher to the bride where they have found, and carried to the truck. Here Heinz and guessed—an accident rigged deliberately, because where in a normal truck sanitary litter? And Mason black figure . . . Very similar to Schwartz though he tries not to approach close. Heinz, overcoming a sharp pain in the broken arm, tried to reach inside pocket. There was a small pistol, and unfortunately covenant movement noticed one of the men who carried the burden. He shouted to the front, put litter on the ground, and immediately confiscated weapons. Now it is also thoroughly searched, and then downloaded to the body, which sat several men in civilian clothes, and Heinz realized—he was caught. I would not like to think how they Otto Dietrich, and apparently they are lucky because night unwound three shots, and again rested silence . . .

Then growled engine, and the truck moved in the opposite direction—from Berlin. With all the time travel, it is no answering, and the Heinz had hunting talk—he’s more concerned about what was in the complex trouble and knew for sure—he did not get out of it, though he begins to speak. In such cases, one final—death, but whether it will be easy and fast, to some extent, depend on him. Of course, it cannot withstand the torture, and that he knows? Not much, but the information that derive from it, will bring great benefits, but did not want to die. He was only forty-eight, he must live . . . Heinz ground teeth, and lost consciousness . . .

-Alive?—Cheerful voice woke wounded.

Heinz slowly open eyelids squinted from the glare. Overhead a few lamps burning in one shade and he remembered available in hospitals. Rather, in surgical wards. Will it to cut? I tried to raise his hand—it appeared firmly attached to the bed. It was the same with the other hand. But even bound feet, looked across the body covered with a white sheet. Looked out to the left—there is a table with medical instruments, and along smiling man in a white lab coat . . . Heinz was bad . . . For all the misery in this world, he would have preferred to see the least is the man, but to him he smiled Willy Schwarz!

-Friedrich glad to welcome you—Schwarz mouth stretched into a wide smile grinned perfect white teeth, and seemed genuinely glad if met with an old friend. So would have thought an outsider, but Heinz was not so easy because I knew—Mason smile will bring a lot of pain and suffering.—Tell all at once?—Saving idea swept in the head, and just as quickly evaporate because torture anyway, and he has little patience to his confession seemed plausible. The body has been unwilling to pain, it is unwilling to rest . . .

-Do not ask me why you watched—and then declare. One thing I want to know, and it depends on whether my good friend . . . we will call it—Hans. So whether Mr. Hans you cut into small pieces slowly or cut off a big chunk at once, now depends on the truth of your words—Schwartz continued to smile, and smile Mason was much harder than all the pain that he will have to endure. Heinz turned his head to the right—Hans wore rubber gloves, took a scalpel and inquiring glances at Schwartz.

-I’m waiting, Frederick, and I very little time—reminded Schwartz.

-What do you want me to hear?—Weakly said Heinz.

-About Folke. We know that he is a traitor, but who sent him—the Russians or British? Or maybe Americans?

Heinz thought for a moment—then he could divert attention from the order, because if you will take on folk, but still will require that he admitted working for foreign intelligence, then under torture while said what they want from him. Yes, it’s out . . .

He has opened-Friedrich, die quickly. Believe me, I would not be delighted by what you do now Hans. I do not advocate violence, but you are forcing me to use special means to you—we Schwartz was soft, even sympathetically, and Heinz knew—that one of the means to get to talk—at first intimidating, then trustful, and the victim immediately grabs the staff of this difference, not realizing that just a game, a psychological technique.

-I was ordained a case Folke; this has been another department, although some heard. Yes, Folke—Member of the Order, but that you and so you know, but who commanded follow Fuhrer—I swear by heaven, I do not know.

Schwartz walked away, looked out the window and said nothing. It took several minutes that seemed Heinz hours. After Schwartz back and said,

-You do not realize their situation. I did not hear anything, you limited to those that told me that I already know. I asked last time—gave the order himself master? Frederick, one word and you die easy death, because you still will not leave their same order bearer. And I promise you this death—the word officer, but if you pass your dungeon order, If we give you Mr. Master—I very much doubt it. Surely they will want to know that you told, and although you great shape, and have a proper title; you have no pity for cowardice. You, as a true member of the Order, had bravely withstood the torture, and swallow the tongue rather than betray his Order. Do not you, Mr. Heinz? And you betrayed him, because I knew that Folke serves on order. Thus, the suggested and you surrender, although Hans has not yet started. You know, I even ashamed of you.

Heinz shaken—caught him at his word this jerk? Oh heavens! How is this dude said—bravely endure all the torture? Well, he tolerates. The glory of the Order, he tolerates it!

And . . . a descendant of crusaders bravely endured all the tortures, but Hans was quite skilled executioner, but still could not resist, though little of it that remains—cut off limbs, poke out eye teeth pulled, half ripped stomach, and life firmly kept mutilated body and Heinz did not lose consciousness, because he always pricked drugs that were given to relax, and unbearable pain did his job.

Schwartz was forced to bend to the very mouth Heinz to hear his whisper.

-That fellow, immediately to the case. Hans, the patient does not need us—rubbing his hands with delight, said Schwartz, and went out. Hans beheaded patient, wiped the blood, wrapped in oil cloth, packed in a cardboard box, and went to wash my hands. Cat has done his job, and was happy—client spoke . . .

*     *     *

Fuhrer listened report Schwarz. Lips finely trembled with anger, his eyes cast disparaging views of the moon, and he knew the temper of his boss, and not paying attention—even angry, it’s worth it. Willie himself is not very busy—his right to find, punish traitors, and ethical issues involved let someone else. When finished, inquiring He looked to Hitler:

-Parcels bring destination?

Fuhrer hesitated—go for open confrontation was too early, who knows how to behave master, and most of the Order until he feared, because he knew that strong tenet enmeshed the entire planet, and order—the most powerful organization, and quarrel with her, then threaten his brilliant plans. But the other side Kraynts is not present—stick to it, the leader of the Reich, spy! Now will have to check whether all the staff it will cause unnecessary chatter, and so would put the master in his place—albeit not believes that he Fuhrer, a doll in the hands of the Crusaders. No, he is not the frightened young man who stood at the sacrificial circle, shaking with fear—he was powerful! Hitler translated papers from one side of the table to another, concentrated thought. Schwartz sat silently in his chair, waiting decision Chef. Finally, the Fuhrer decided:

-Willie, parcel hold. Do to it break. Freeze or something—in short—that is your trouble. Keep up the workouts now professor and prepare expedition. Term you got a lot of cases and I hope you are well make this task.

Schwartz rose:

-Of course, my Fuhrer.

Schwartz went to the door. Hitler saw him in the trail, and thought fled far away—to the mysterious Tibet thereof, to the mysterious Shambala . . .

NEW CASE

=== 1 ===

LEONID GOLIKOV, (AND among their—Life Holtzman) DST reread reports from foreign intelligence. He is chief of the 7th Division of the NKVD, had to be aware of all the cases abroad, and promptly report to the top when someone from the scouts will catch in the dark water something substantial. And now a message appeared monotonous, uninteresting, so he drank iced tea, postponed sheet by sheet, and has gradually hung nose. Cigarettes have long faded, and he held it between his fingers rather from habit—brown from tobacco phalanx pointed out—the owner many cigarette burns, and they drop litter so that wash were already hard.

Outside a long time night fell. Lamp shade cast by a bright light spot on the table, forming irregularly shaped oval—it was slightly elongated at one end, the other—shorter. The door knocked timidly. Golikov looked up from reading, rubbed tired eyes, shouted:

-Come on in!

Entered assistant Sergey Teryokhin, faces tense bewildered eyes run and had the chief one glance to understand something extraordinary happened. Hand pointed to the chair:

-Sit down. I see it’s not empty. What this time? By the way, what time?

-The fourth morning, Leonid I.,—said Teryokhin. Golikov stretched evil He looked at the assistant:

-Then why not call? Sleep like, the eyes no longer see. What you got?

-Urgent message from the agent Nord. Read?

-From Nord?—jerk Golikov.—Sure, read it! He has long been released on bond, I thought trapped competitors. Through what channel letter came?

-In Argentina.

-Substitute channel?—ask Golikov.—Then it is really urgent. What’s it about?

-«In Berlin’ exhibit extremely active interest in Tibet. Preparing a well-equipped expedition». The identity of the head could not be determined. All too classified. The aim is also unknown. I request permission to develop this theme. «Nord».

Golikov lit a cigarette, released a cloud of smoke, said:

-Germans are activated in Asia. They already removed the hands Turkey are well-established agents in Iran. Why would they Tibet?

Teryokhin shrugged:

-I do not know. Giving permission to develop the theme?

-All highly classified . . . You see, even the head could not be calculated. It is to mean huh? There is something there, Sergei. Tibet, Tibet . . . spinning in my head, but cannot remember. Once I heard that Felix was interested in this area. Listen, lift archival documents seen can something bunks.

-Leonid I., I have a mountain of cases, when I engage even Tibet?—Teryokhin whimpered. Golikov showed his fist:

-Nord knowingly involved the alternate channel. He was silent for several years, and now again alive. Gad, so it was not worth it, he would have left the relationship?

-Of course—no. This channel is too secret, but after Argentina . . . I still insist—give this deal to someone else, I really, sleep for three hours, and is not yet lay.

Golikov stood up’ close a cabinet. From head was not dispatch, and that she dealt with Asia, and was completely incomprehensible. In Europe soon kindled the war, and the Soviet Union would be drawn into it—here and guess not. The southern borders were always restless—there is another religion, the other thing people are much different from the European way of life and thinking. What is Tibet? Agent unearthed something interesting, or just sent messages reminded about you? It’s hardly. Nord was too valuable worker, he was sent immediately after the October Revolution, and only once activated, and suddenly he comes to me! No need to understand. Approached, both hands pressed Teryokhin back:

-That’s that. Come, rest. I give the south, then to the archive, and that the evening was a report on my desk. All things pass Egorova.

Teryokhin jumped:

-Vacationing? Thank you, Comrade Golikov. Still have a point—Tibet and then haul. Nord overdo it, believe me.

Golikov frowned:

-Will babble, you will be work at Tibet without rest. Go away until the mind!

Assistant quickly got out of the office and went home. Golikov even an hour sat on the papers, but fatigue was taking its toll—he had fallen asleep at the table.

In the morning visited once. He brought hot tea, and would have to call the boss and promptly restrained:—Let them sleep, apparently spent the night.

Golikov slept until nine o’clock. Impulsively stood up looked at his watch, put piper to file, locked in a vault, and went to wash. In the hallway bustling staff slammed the door, heard the noise from everywhere, chirping machines—ordinary working day. Golikov went to the bathroom, unscrewed the valve, and framed head under a stream of cold water. Coolness somewhat refreshed, and multi-day fatigue firmly sat in the body, and to overcome it, one is not enough water—you need rest. Golikov wiped his face with his hand held on a bristle:—I never shave. Overgrown as Baba .

Again, re-read the paper, drank tea, smoked cigarettes, and looked at the clock. Teryokhin had come at six in the evening. Now fifth. Stood up, put on leather jackets, ran around in the office—or left nothing superfluous, and went to dinner dining.

Golikov returned exactly at six. Under cabinet doors stood Teryokhin held under his arm two thick folders. Mysterious smile wandered into lean face assistant and Golikov understood—is news. Nodded, opening the door:

-Come on.

-So, Leonid I.,—from the door began Teryokhin, it is this: the Germans back in the twenties sent an expedition to Tibet. And then, think? You will not believe—in search of some mysterious country—Shambhala.

Golikov sat down, note:

-And what they found?

-Probably—no, but there is sent expedition and Comrade Dzerzhinsky! There was then a special department in the KGB. We were engaged in all sorts of experiments, studied the effect of shamans, clairvoyants, and similar entities. He was then eliminated. So—neither the Germans nor our no Shambhala not found, although among those people walked stubborn rumors—it still exists, but it can get to the people who have pure intentions, well, stuff . . .

-And that the struggle for a better share of people—it is not pure thoughts?—Sharply reacted Golikov.—The revolution—and lo is the most pure thoughts.

Teryokhin wilted, sat on a chair, and as a student teacher, began to argue that the revolution is:

-You see, the thing is not—llamas, local monks who practice Buddhism, they mean something quite different. Net should be the soul of man.

Golikov again interrupted assistant:

-You’re talking like pop. Lost as we eradicate the church? Party line has not changed—religion—poison for the people, and let it Buddhism or Catholicism—all equally. Speak to the point.

Teryokhin hotly contested:

-That is also the case! Our well said Lamas, and they answered straight answer—so as you never get to Shambhala. Do not know what they said with the Germans, but they also paid work and went home. Tried force, and where there! Half of the people died in strange circumstances, local refused to provide provisions, gentleness, and leader of the expedition was forced to return.

Golikov released a cloud of smoke, take to saliva extinguished cigarette, bent over the table and breathing assistant in the face, said:

-Is that all?

-No. It worked expedition professor Claus. This apolitical—it archaeologist, and was in Tibet, as an individual, most likely—he has financed its same expedition. Apparently, he also could not find a miracle country, but went stubborn rumors that he has achieved more—he was able to talk with one Lama, and he discovered the secret—Shambhala, the residence ancients.

Golikov smiled:

-Who? Cave apes? This is news!

Teryokhin waved his hands:

-Dharma kidding, Leonid Osipovich—ancients, the creatures that were