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Rated: 13+ · Novel · Action/Adventure · #1639709
Action/Adventure - A genre mix like National Treasure and Indiana Jones
April 27, 2012 – Restaurant ‘Zer Flintkaserne’ - Bad Tölz



As Henri drove them in his beat up old Mercedes along Sachsenkamer Strasse to the front of Flint Kaserne, the memories of the times Monday spent walking up and down this street flooded back. They were warm and memories of days without worry, sunny days, days on skis, even a few late evenings staggering back to the Kaserne after a late night on the town with friends.

Flint Kaserne had changed dramatically since he had been there in 1990. The Kaserne now held city offices, several shops, and a Gasthaus named "Zur Flintkaserne" which specialized in original Bavarian and Austrian food. During the summer months, a small beer garden provided a cozy place to hang out and this is where he and Daria headed. They sat down and ordered a beer, a Maibock for him and Weizen for Daria who wasn’t squeamish about drinking before noon. Daria also ordered a weisswurst and brochen. It seemed that her appetite was exhaustive. The friendly waiter was prompt in his delivery.

“Berg Heil!” Monday raised his foaming mug in a toast.

“Berg Heil,” Daria returned with a smile.

Burg Heil was the traditional German expletive climbers made upon reaching the peak of a mountain and Monday had climbed just about every mountain of any size in Germany and most of the higher peaks in Europe, including the Zugspitze in Garmisch-Partenkirchen south of Bad Tolz.

Looking around the Kaserne brought back warm memories of when he had been stationed there. He remembered going down a broad staircase to the first underground floor to where his team room was on his very first day. At the bottom of the staircase, were the imprints in concrete of German hob nailed boots put there in 1936 by a workman who was building the place or an SS soldier careless of the wet cement.

On the floor below, still in the original German, was a sign marked bomb shelter. Monday learned that the facility originally had eight underground floors, but when Patton took it over they allowed the bottom floors to flood because they feared they were booby trapped with demolitions. So, there were four unflooded underground floors.

The bottom unflooded floor was closed off and consisted mostly of plumbing fixtures. The next one up had various empty and spooky storage rooms. The one after that housed things like the nuclear, biological, and chemical office. The subsequent floor up was where the first underground floor where all the Special Forces teams were housed along with their respective company headquarters. Much of the four above ground floors was used as barracks housing for soldiers, administrative areas and other facilities.

The top floors on the south end were used by Special Forces. The upper floors of the front and right side of the quadrangle were used by the 7th Army NCO Academy and it also contained General Patton’s office which was maintained as a little museum.

In the walls along the halls on the main ground floor of the huge quadrangle were inset rifle racks made to hold the standard issue bolt action 8 mm Mauser the Germans used in WW II. Even the emergency generator was a WW II German diesel with electrical generator originally used for powering U-boats, and the Germans had one shipped and installed in a shed to provide emergency lighting. At one time, there had been an underground garage under the courtyard of the quadrangle, but it had been sealed off.

The inside pistol range had been turned into a bowling alley but the SF swam in the same inside pool once used by SS officer trainees. SF ran on the same outside track the SS had run on, worked out and played basketball in the same gym they had used and ate in the same mess hall they had eaten in. They also trained in skiing on the same mountains they had trained on.

When Monday first arrived, there was even a former German soldier that Patton himself had hired during the occupation still working in that mess hall. That soldier had been badly wounded fighting in Rommel’s Afrika Corp and discharged from the Army.

In the theater, they sat in the same seats in the SS had sat in, and a couple of those that sat in the front center row would have been sitting in the same seats that Hitlers henchmen, Jospeh Gobbels, Reich minister of propoganda, and Herman Goering, second only under Hitler and head of the Luftwaffe, both sat in those two front row seats at different times. Gobbels was there for the opening dedication and Goering came later for a tour.

The bar in the NCO club was the same one that had originally been installed there and working behind that bar was a German that had worked there most of his life. He said that during the war as a kid the SS broke both his legs when he had failed to salute them as they were marching on parade in downtown Bad Tolz.

US soldiers used the same motor pool facilities Hitler’s Nazi soldiers did except one garage had been turned into the Rigger shed where Special Forces parachutes were packed, maintained and stored.

The SS Commandant’s old house served as the Officers Club with the upstairs bed rooms fitted out as suites for VIP visitors. It was reputed to be haunted because he allegedly killed himself and his family after the war rather than surrender. The underground floors of the Kaserne were also said to be haunted with the footsteps of marching boots and SS commands heard late at night. It was also rumored that gold was buried somewhere in the Kaserne. That was just a rumor though. Any place the SS had been stationed was rumored to hold treasure of one kind or another.

Monday also remembered the wonderful times he had in the huge beer tents set up behind the Kaserne during HerbsFest and OctoberFest where he and his Team would overindulge in beer, chicken, Schwein Hoxen, radishes and more beer.

“Brings back memories doesn’t it?” Daria remarked, seeing the distant and dreamy look on Monday’s face.

“Good memories,” he replied, raising his beer stein for another salute.

As he did, he noticed a tall, very imposing man heading towards their table. Immediately he knew that it was Jean Marcel Dorbec. The man walked with a straight back like a professional soldier and carried himself with complete confidence. He exuded a sense of self-control and his sharp eyes constantly checked his surroundings. As he stood up to greet the man, Dorbec signaled for his to remain sitting.

“Ein Doppelbock bier bitte,” Dorbec said in heavily accented German to the waiter standing near. As the waiter hurried off to get the strong beer Dorbec sat gently down across the table from them. “A pleasure to finally meet you Doctor Stiehl.” He gave a curt nod. “I have heard so much about you and your exemplary academic achievements. And good day to you Mademoiselle Wolff.”

“Your achievements are also legendary,’ Monday replied. “If the circumstances were different, I dare say it would be a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“No need for animosity.” Dorbec grinned. “We are merely on different teams searching for the same thing, nous pas?”

“The search may be the same but the intent varies,” Monday coolly noted.

“I see.” Dorbec raised his eyebrows. “We are Special Forces comrades in arms. I simply have allegiance to a different employer. Whereas you are satisfied to accept a five percent finders fee my employer prefers not to share any part of the bounty.”

“Seven percent,” Daria blurted. “And the German government is the rightful owner of the remaining 93 percent.”

Dorbec cast an appraising look in her direction. “Rightful owner? Now there’s a misleading term, if I have ever heard one. From where do you think this trésor originated mon petite fille? France? Poland? Italy? It obviously did not originate in Germany so the German government has no legal or rightful claim to it.”

“They can use it to make amends to those from whom it was stolen.” Daria narrowed her eyes. “It will be put to good use to help others.”

Dorbec smiled at her in a condescending manner as if she was a naive and romantic dreamer. He then returned his attention to Monday. “We offer a 50-50 split. No need for government interference. Ten tons of gold will last you and your Team for several lifetimes. This gold was stolen by the Nazi’s and not traceable to any person or country. Ownership goes to those who find it first. I prefer not to go against brothers in arms over such an easily solved situation.”

“No deal.” Monday shook his head.

“I guess your archaic sense of honneur cannot be bought.” Dorbec shrugged nonchilantly. “But there is no loss of honneur to take that which was stolen in the first place.”

“It is said that there is no, ‘honneur parmi des voleurs,’ Monday returned. “No honor among thieves. I prefer not to be included in that category.”

Dorbec raised his stein in a toast to enjoy a deep gulp of his beer. “Honneur parmi des voleurs,” he said with a smile. “Salut. I like that. I sincerely hope that we can solve this problem without recourse to violence.”

“I don’t think it’s the gold that draws you here.” Monday stated, uncertain if Dorbec knew of the second part of the message he and Daria had found. “A man of your abilities and skills would not have financial liabilities heavy enough to force you into such action, unless of course your desires go far beyond your needs.”

Dorbec casually changed the subject without replying to the query. “You have six professionals, seven if you include Henri, and two untrained civilians. No doubt you are aware that I have a full team of twelve men with other readily available assets. You and your Team are old and rusty. My men are at the peak of physical and mental training. The odds against you are staggering.”

“No deal,” Monday repeated with a grin.

“Your John Wayne mentality compliments you, but are you certain that you can live up to that silly good guy image?

“They don’t call me Cowboy for nothing.”

“Bonne chance.” Dorbec stood and emptied his stein. “I had to try, nous pas? I sincerely hope things turn out for the best… for both of us.”

“I can’t wish you good luck, but I appreciate the gesture,” Monday replied, standing and offering his hand to Dorbec.

They watched as Dorbec casually walked from the restaurant and out of site. A signal from Weps on the other side of the courtyard indicated there was no unusual activity.

“He could have made that offer over the phone,” Daria remarked, as Dorbec turned the corner and disappeared. She took a second to finish off the brochen then licked her lips.“Why this unnecessary meeting?”

“Sizing up the competition,” Monday offered. “It helps to know the enemy you are going up against. In this case, he was checking me out to see what kind of leader I am. You can tell more from a personal contact than you can from reading a personnel file.”

“Does he have the advantage over us as he insinuated?”

“Yes and no again. “He may have the edge on manpower, youth, and training but we have the law, an important and possibly decisive factor.”

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