Текст книги "Driver Chronicles: Book 1 - The Passenger"

Автор книги: Niall Roche

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Chapter 18

How could it have come to this, he wondered. They'd reached new heights in scientific research and had come so close to achieving their goal of launching a rocket into orbit, even just temporarily. For all the insanity that had gone on over the last 6 years, he knew that a lot of his work had been justified. Peenemünde had been a harsh mistress to everyone who got involved with her, but the slave laborers had come off the worst of it. His childhood dream of conquering space had become the adult nature of conquering other human beings instead.

Unfortunately, it was the insanity of one man that had changed the course of human history, and tens of millions had died as a result. The same evil he’d poured out into the world was now following him back home though, destroying the country he loved so dearly. His dear Fatherland.

He felt lucky he'd managed to get this far West though, because at least this way, he'd be safe from the Russians. Developing the V2 rocket program had cost the lives of thousands of slave laborers who had died from starvation, being worked to death or just blown up near the failed rocket launches. He knew Soviet troops weren't going to be very sympathetic toward him if they caught him. The chances of him surviving more than a few days as a prisoner of the Russians was highly unlikely, especially now that his arm was broken.

He knew that he was a valuable asset, and that whoever captured him would want to keep him alive, even the hated Russians wouldn’t risk the wrath of Stalin by executing him before they emptied his head of everything he knew. From his point of view, it just seemed like the Americans were the better side to surrender to. He was pretty sure he could convince them to allow him to continue his work. The next race for humanity would be toward the stars, and he was the perfect guy to help the United States make that happen.

He stood up and dusted himself down with his right hand, the other arm still propped up in a cast. The door opened swiftly and a U.S. Army Major strode in. Smiling, he extended his hand and said, "Dr. von Braun, I presume? My name is Major Staver, it's a pleasure to meet you. We'd like to escort you safely out of Europe and to the United States. How does that sound, sir?"

Werner Von Braun sighed a little inside, knowing he was trading one "master" for another, narrowed his eyes, and shook the Major's hand, replying in broken English with, "The pleasure is mine, I'm sure. When do we leave?"

His fate was now in the hands of the Americans, and if the rumors were true, they had a weapon the Soviets would live in fear of for at least a few years. That would buy him the time he needed to get the Americans into orbit, and then the moon. Once the Americans controlled the space above planet Earth, they could control the Earth itself. It was just a matter of planning, resources, and time. That fool, Hitler, had never given very much of any of those.

He was smiling as he walked out of the room. It appeared the Americans wanted to make his Nazi past and alleged war crimes disappear, too. This was a good day to be alive.

Chapter 19

Heller was in full flight now, so there was no point in even trying to slow him down, never mind stop him. Telling his tale seemed to have given the old man a burst of energy – there was real fire in his eyes when he was explaining it all. Then again, Jason realized, this guy had lived through parts of history the rest of us can probably only imagine. Or have nightmares about. One or the other.

"At the end of World War II, there was a race to bring the best and brightest German minds back to the United States to help us with our weapons program. Remember that the Germans had been using their V2 rockets to attack the United Kingdom for several years before we'd even invaded Europe, so we knew they were in possession of some pretty advanced technology. 'Operation Paperclip' was a special mission to find and rescue these Nazi scientists before the Russians got their hands on them. We were lucky enough to grab most of the good stuff from their main facility in Peenemünde, and we also managed to capture the leader of their rocket program, Werner Von Braun. The Russians got their hands on some of the tech but none of the real 'know how'," Heller explained.

Most Americans had no idea that Werner von Braun was one of the brightest lights behind the Apollo space program, and the successful landing of humans on the surface of the Moon. He stood in the control room during major missions and launches, quietly watching his handiwork soaring up into the atmosphere. America could never have accepted that a Nazi helped put Americans in space, but Dr. Von Braun had been whitewashed of his Nazi past long before Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon.

Jason interrupted him, “So if everything was such a great success, what went wrong? I get a sense that it wasn’t exactly plain sailing dealing with these guys.”

Heller eyed him curiously before responding. Jason had obviously anticipated where this story was going, which was interesting to say the very least. "In the beginning, everything seemed to be going so well – we made rapid progress in our development of rockets capable of space flight, but then things started going wrong,” Heller waved his cigarette in a circle in the air in front of him. “Suddenly, we were having rockets blowing themselves apart on the launch pads, one after the other, while the Russians went from success to success. We finally figured out that some of the Nazis we'd brought with us hated the United States far more than they hated the USSR, plus we had our fair share of spies and saboteurs. We did obliterate most of their Fatherland after all, so they'd been quietly sabotaging our space flight projects for years after arriving here. Basically, we brought the Nazi Party to America and then found ourselves surprised that they'd never actually changed; in fact, most of them were still the same bastards we'd fought for several years, slogging our way across Europe in the process.”

Bits and pieces of Heller's story sounded familiar to Jason, especially the bit about that guy, von Braun, but places like Peenemünde were a total mystery to him. Jason found himself stunned that anything of this scale could happen without the entire American public figuring it out and literally burning the Whitehouse to the ground. The entire story sounded like a Hollywood B-movie and the absolute truth all at the same time. He found himself shaking his head without really realizing he was doing it, but Heller had noticed.

Peenemünde was the research site where Werner von Braun and other Nazis used slave labor to develop the weapons of the "V" program. Hitler was relying on these rockets to not only attack and destroy the United Kingdom, but to destroy the United States, too. Germany had come very, very close to developing nuclear weapons, so combined with a V2 capable of hitting the United States, this would have changed the balance of the war. Fortunately, the invasion of Europe meant that Nazi Germany lacked the resources to develop these weapons any further than they did.

"It all sounds just a bit too 'out there' to be believable, doesn't it?"

Jason stared at Heller and nodded.

"I just can't get my head around the idea that the American people never noticed. Why did no one ever blab? Secrets like these are too hard to keep, Heller. Someone always talks."

"Dead men don't talk, Jason. Or dead women or children. There are no limits to what these people will do to stay in control. I'm effectively a dead man now, so they don't care what I do or say – it all goes to the grave with me. But they did kill thousands of Americans to keep their secrets safe, and to keep their hands on the reins. They'll kill as many others as they need to. Without hesitation.”

"It got so bad in the end that even a reformed Nazi like von Braun saw the danger of the military industrial complex and what it wanted. He saw that it could become far worse than the Nazi party ever was, and tried to quietly warn people about it. They managed to shut him up by threatening his family though, and then, by 1977, von Braun was dead, so they stopped caring about him, too. His daughter has tried to stir up some controversy since then, using different online video sites, but nothing really stuck. It all seemed just a bit too crazy, even for the conspiracy theorists.”

Heller stubbed out his cigarette, lit another, smiled at Jason, and said, "One for the road, eh?"

Chapter 20

Jason sat there, surrounded by the noise of the dinner, trying to work the whole thing over in his head. They always say the best place to hide a lie is in plain sight, so that's exactly what Heller’s buddies had done. And the quickest way for them to distract everyone from what they were doing was to kill the president of the United States, showing the world they could do whatever they wanted, to whoever they wanted and whenever they wanted. It was the ultimate show of force. It was saying to the whole world, "Do what you're told, or we'll erase you, too". It worked, too, by the look of things.

Jason looked over at Heller, who was obviously deep in thought, judging by how long the finger of ash had grown along his cigarette, and wondered how many other guys there were like him out there right now. Guys who looked like a harmless old man, but before he 'retired', was a trained killer who once helped assassinate a president. And God knows who else, for that matter! He was pretty sure that Heller had been elbow deep in blood and horror for most of his adult life. Little did he realize that he was closer to the truth than he could have possibly known.

Heller glanced over at Jason as the word "assassin" passed through his mind. It was like the old guy could hear what he was thinking, because he instantly looked up. Was that some kind of sixth sense Heller had? The old man was still quick when he needed to be.

"You're still not certain that I'm telling the truth, are you?"

"It's an awful lot to take in. No one would believe me either way, but like you said, that's the point in telling me – you get your 'last confession' and total deniability at the same time." Heller just smiled and nodded, and went back to thinking his thoughts.

It was unnerving for Jason to think that Kennedy wasn't assassinated by just one crazy dude with a gun. To accept that meant accepting that most of what he held to be real and true was lies. In fact, it also meant he was living in a dictatorship controlled by the military and funded by big corporations. That would mean that the United States itself has ceased to exist, and liberty, real freedom, and true democracy with her. Liberty had died to the sound of a covert firing squad, and the screams of frightened people in Dealey Plaza.

These thoughts kept him preoccupied as his food went cold. He also realized he definitely wasn't hungry now. That was a shame because he really did like steak and eggs.

Heller winced from the pain as the cigarette he'd been holding finally burnt his fingers. He dropped it, and then stared down at the embers until they turned black. He'd obviously been far more lost in his thoughts than either he or Jason had realized.

"It's time to go, Jason. Now is a good time to go. I’m done here.” Heller laid a $50 down on the table, and got up to leave.

Jason held the diner door open as Heller shuffled out of the exit and down the steps toward the car. The pie and coffee had definitely given the guy a bit more spring in his step, in fact, he almost seemed happy. Or maybe he was finally finding peace inside himself again. Who knew?

Once Heller was settled in the back seat, Jason started the cab, glanced back over his shoulder at Heller, and asked, "Where to now, Bill?"

"Brinkley Clinic, but don't be in a hurry to get there. I still have some time left, and we might talk some more on the way perhaps?"

Jason felt a twinge of sadness when he heard those words, because they sounded like the words of some random old guy who just wanted to talk to someone, anyone, before he died. He had to force himself to remember that this old man had probably killed dozens of people during his “career”. It was a sobering thought. He pulled away slowly from the curb and pointed his car back toward the route to get them where they needed to be tonight.

Earlier on, Jason had wanted to get rid of this guy as quickly as he could. But now, he felt the need to keep him around for as long as he could. He wasn't sure why either.

Chapter 21

No one said anything for the first few minutes of their journey, but the silence was going to have to break. Jason knew he was going to be the one doing the breaking, too. "Heller? You awake back there?"

"I am, Jason. Just sitting here thinking. Why?"

"Why do I get the impression our meeting tonight wasn't entirely random? Or am I just being paranoid?"

There was just a hint of a pause before Heller replied. "What makes you think it was anything more than me dialing for a cab and you turning up, Jason? Why does it have to be anything more than random chance?"

"I dunno...it's just like a gut feeling I have. I can't shake it, and I don't like it. I don't have many rules in my life, but listening to my gut is one of them."

There was also the little fact that Heller had decided to tell him his entire life story during a cab ride, taking a huge chance that he wouldn't just open the door, take a sharp turn, and force the old guy out of the cab whether he liked it or not. Something about tonight just didn't add up.

It was only at this point that Jason remembered the voice on the phone from last night. They knew who they were. They'd always known. Shit. Was this guy something to do with all that? Was he being set up?

Heller replied, "That's interesting...you listen to your gut instinct more than your own logic at times then?"

"All I can tell you is that sometimes I'll walk into a bar and know that I need to get my ass out of there straight away. It's like bad Voodoo in the room, or something.”

Jason had been like that his whole life, he could 'smell' trouble coming a long way off. It had saved his life on more than one occasion, too. He'd never been able to explain it either, he just knew when something wasn't Kosher.

"Have you always had that 'sense', Jason? That things just weren't right in some way? To get out of wherever you were?" Heller asked.

"Well...yup...I suppose I have. I never really thought about it too much though. Why do you ask?"

"No reason, Jason. No reason at all." Jason could hear a faint smile on Heller's lips when he said that. He got the creeps. Then he got the creeps some more, like when you get the shivers and people tell you someone just walked over your grave.

Heller was holding back and he knew it, but there was no way he was going to be able to force his hand. "You know about the phone call I got last night, don't you? You knew about it well before you got into my cab tonight. Did you call me?"

Heller seemed a little surprised at the question. "A phone call? What did they say or ask you?"

Jason knew that he's touched a raw nerve here. "They didn't ask me anything, they just said some stuff and hung up. I put it down to some of the guys in work having some fun messing with my head.”

"What 'stuff', Jason? What exactly did they say to you? This could be very important and I don’t think it was a prank," Heller said.

"Oh, they just told me that they knew who 'they' were and that they had always known, or something along those lines. It just sounded like a prank call to me but your reaction is telling me it wasn't a prank call, was it?"

Heller was mumbling to himself, paying precisely zero attention to Jason, or anything he might have been saying.

"Heller, what is this all about?"

Heller replied, "They're as interested in you as I thought they might be. I just didn't expect this to happen quite so soon."

"Expect what to happen so soon? You're not making any sense! You're just creeping me out here because there's no way you could know about that phone call unless you've been monitoring my calls, or you know the guys who made the call. Or maybe both. All I know is that right now, I want some straight answers."

Heller stared straight ahead into the night. "Not now, Jason. Not right now."

He tried to wrestle an answer from him but Heller was keeping his mouth shut. That made Jason just about as mad as any one human being can be.

Chapter 22

The clinic was now just a few minutes away, and Jason could feel a sense of urgency grab hold of him. He wanted to know exactly what was going on here, and he wanted answers before this old man left his life, and this life, forever. If he didn’t get his answers now, he was afraid he was never going to.

"Heller, there's something you're not telling me here, right? You're keeping something to yourself, aren't you?"

He looked out the window and said, "Jason, I'm keeping a great many things under this hat of mine. It's one of the only reasons I managed to survive this long. Loose lips sink ships, don’t you know!”

Jason thought about it and realized he probably didn't really want to know everything going on inside the old man's head. He figured some of that stuff would probably make him hate most human beings. Still though...something just wasn't settling right here. He knew Heller had something else he wanted to talk about, but he was holding back.

He'd heard so much information in the last few hours. He’d heard the truth about what happened to John Fitzgerald Kennedy. He knew more about it now than most people alive on the planet. That kind of stuff was enough to make you go sailing off the deep edge. It was enough to drive you crazy.

"You're still trying to figure out if I'm telling the truth or not, Jason? I can see it in your eyes."

Jason glanced back at Heller, who was now staring intently at him. He was out of patience here.

"Heller, what you've told me could be a complete crock or the absolute truth. Either way, I'm not sure what the hell I'm supposed to do with this information now that I have it. I can’t tell anyone and I can’t do anything about it either."

Heller sat there listening silently, but nodding slowly at the same time.

"I mean, I know this is like your last confession, just getting this off your chest before you die, but I still can't shake the feeling that something about this entire thing is more than just coincidence. More than just random chance. Am I right or not?” Jason asked.

Heller smiled. "Well, Jason, the reason I specifically told you about this goes beyond tonight and what I said. It goes beyond tomorrow, and what happens there, too. The last age of control is ending and another one is starting. I’m pretty sure you're going to have a part to play in this."

Jason slowed the car down again.

"What makes you say that? I'm no one, Heller. I'm just an ex-marine with a bad temper who drives a taxi for a living. Telling me what you told me tonight is pointless because no one would believe me if I told them. I don't have any power or control in this world. I'm just as helpless as all the other sheep out there, just trying to scrape a living and keep myself out of trouble."

"You're more than just some random man, Jason, but I can't say anything more about that right now for your own sake, believe it or not. You were right, Jason, tonight wasn't some chance meeting. Tonight was me wanting to see how you'd turned out, and to maybe help shed some light on who you really are."

This kind of conversation annoyed the living hell out of Jason. There's nothing worse than listening to someone who talks in riddles all the time, usually because, most of the time, they're talking crap and just want to come across as being some kind of intellectual. Heller's riddles were starting to wear very, very thin on him.

"Jesus, you're talking in circles, old man. There's all this stuff you've told me upfront about how you all killed Kennedy, but then you hint at other stuff but never give anything away. At this point, I'm just sick of listening to you. I have enough crap in my life without all this. Brinkley is just around the corner."

Heller said nothing more.