PARADOX - Chapter 34

Chapter 34

May 7, 2012 – Near Mount Fitz Roy – Argentina



Hans angrily dismounted from his stallion and pulled a crumbly molasses cookie from his pocket. The horse was fond of treats and this cookie was his favorite. Tornado was from the bloodline of Hurricane Run, a German bred and French trained champion. Hurricane Run was voted the Cartier Racing Award for European horse of the year and was the world’s top ranked horse in 2005, plus the world’s top ranked long distance horse.

Hans gently lifted the stallion’s right front leg and cursed at the loose shoe. “Gottverdammt!” he yelled. He would see to it that the idiot farrier felt his wrath when he returned to the villa. Tornado was not only the greatest horse alive; he was also beyond value. Although a loose shoe would most likely work its way out and be thrown by the horse, there was always a possibility of splitting the hoof or damaging the frog.

Luck would have it that he was on his way back to the villa, which was now less than a kilometer away. He would walk the remaining distance. Hans pulled his canteen from the saddle horn and took a deep drink of refreshing wine mixed with water. He preferred a mixture of vinegar and water, however, he had left so early the steward was still sleeping and he could not locate the fresh vinegar. Hans was fond of history, military history in general and Roman history in particular. Having learned at an early age that Roman soldiers were fond of drinking vinegar, he quickly adopted the unusual habit.

He had returned to the Vila late last night and went directly to bed. Despite only a few hours sleep, he was up early to enjoy his favorite pastime. Hans rode daily, sometimes twice daily. Although his favorite was Tornado, he had a large number of horses to choose from; race horses, quarter horses, Arabians, both stallions and geldings. Señor d’Amador often told him that horses was his only vice.

Hans was tall, muscular, and well proportioned. According to the senoritas he was more handsome than any movie star. His thick blond hair, sky blue eyes, aquiline nose, and square jaw did make him incredibly handsome. He could have posed for a portrait of a pure Germanic Knight if he had been born during the glory days of the Third Reich.

Hans was of pure German stock. His father was Colonel Hans-Ulrich Rudel; unarguably the most decorated German service man of the war. During his 2,530 missions as a dive bomber pilot, he destroyed 519 tanks, 800 vehicles, 70 landing craft, 150 artillery guns, 4 trains, a battleship, a cruiser, a destroyer and 70 landing craft and was shot down 30 times and wounded five times.

Rudel was one of only 27 military men to be awarded the Knight’s Cross with Oak Leaves, Swords and Diamonds, and the only one to be awarded the Knight's Cross with Golden Oak Leaves, Swords and Diamonds. After being badly wounded, Rudel was taken to the hospital in Berlin, where he had an artificial limb fitted and then returned to his squadron. In the last days of the war, he commanded the oldest and the best-known close assault/support Stuka group - Schlachtgeschwader 2 Immelmann. He also volunteered to fly his Stuka into Berlin in May of 1945 to rescue Hitler from the Red Army.

Released by the Americans after the war, Rudel moved to Argentina in 1948 then returned to Germany in 1953. He became a successful businessman in post-war Germany and died in 1982, still a devout Nazi and avid Hitler supporter. Although he never married, according to official records or lack thereof, Hans knew otherwise. His father married a pure blood German immigrant while in Argentina. Hans was born in 1974 with the name Hans-Ulrich Rudel II, of which he was extremely proud.

Hans wanted to return to the fatherland when he was young, but it was not meant to be. He was raised at the villa until age sixteen and tutored by an army of the best academic minds that money could buy. His lessons were endless and imprinted on his mind like a brand and his backside even more often.  By the time he enrolled in college in England he was so far ahead of his peers he challenged many of the academic tests and advanced correspondingly.

By the time Hans was twenty-six, he held a Ph.D. in History, and four Masters in Science, Math, Philology, and Literature. He also spoke fluent Spanish, German, English, Italian and a smattering of other languages. Hans learned his real destiny upon returning to the Villa ten years ago. It is a destiny he is proud to be part of. The past ten years had been demanding, both mentally and physically, so he returned to the Villa at least four times a year for several weeks’ rest and recuperation.

Hans’ greatest dream was to be a revered war hero like his father. The Argentine military did not suit his purpose. Any military he joined had to be the best, and the best today was the Americans or possibly the British. He loved Germany and was proud of his German heritage but the German military of this day and age was nothing compared to the amazing Whermacht under the Führer. He came close to joining the American Armed Forces until Señor d’Amador discovered his plans. That was when he discovered his true destiny and everything changed.

As Hans topped a final hill the Villa was spread out before him. It was a beautiful scene that was indelibly written in his memory. No matter where he went or how long he stayed, he loved his home here at the Villa. He loved the gorgeous mountain views, the gently rolling green hills, the crisp fresh air and especially the quiet solitude.

Despite what Señor d’Amador said about horses being his only vice, Hans did have a much worse and often deadly vice, his temper. When something irritated him, or sometimes for no particular reason, Hans could become incredibly vicious and hateful. He had already killed two men and one woman, one of the Argentine Gauchos who worked out on the pampas, a student in England, and a young barmaid in an English Pub.

The Gaucho had been caught whipping one of his horses and Hans had taken the whip from him and beat him to death with it. The English student had been interested in the same girl that Hans had been dating, so he quietly drowned him in the University swimming pool. The barmaid had accidentally died in the heat of sexual passion. Without realizing the extent of his physical power, Hans had broken her neck while making love to her. The Gaucho and English student had been easy to cover up, but it had taken a lot of money to cover the death of the barmaid, a lot of money combined with death threats to members of her family.

As Hans limped into the barn his face was flustered. Walking over a kilometer in high heel riding boots had whetted his temper. “Ramon!” he bellowed. “Ramon. Where the hell are you, you lazy Schwanzlutscher.”

The farrier was not in the barn but in the smithy several building away. When he heard Hans bellowing he knew that something was wrong. He prayed that some of the Gauchos were within hailing distance, because he was deathly afraid of the German’s temper. As he left the smithy he signaled for two riders entering a different barn to accompany him.

“You could have broken his leg,” Hans yelled to the farrier as he entered the barn. Ramon nervously glanced back at the open door to assure himself that the two Gauchos were standing there, then quickly walked over and lifted the horses’ hoof. The shoe was loose but would easily have lasted for many more miles of riding. “I will fix Señor.”

“Damn right you’ll fix, you little shit. One more incident like this and I’ll see to it that you are replaced. There is no room for incompetence at my Villa.”

Hans seriously thought about taking his riding crop to the idiot farrier, but he had also noticed the two Gauchos standing in the door. The little scheissekopf was scared of him; scared enough to bring witnesses in case he was beaten. He didn’t realize that witnesses meant nothing to him. If Hans wanted to beat the little prick, he would, regardless of witnesses. In fact, witnesses would be nice. They would get the message that if they screwed up they’d be next.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a call from just beyond the door. “Señor Hans.”

Señor d’Amador walked into view, his tux blinding white in the bright sun. He immediately understood the situation when the two Gauchos quietly dismissed themselves. Hans was nearing one of his temper tantrums again. “We have visitors. Colonel Dorbec has returned. He has both items he was instructed to obtain.”

Hans smiled and walked away from the terrified Ramon. He joined Juan at the door and glanced towards the main house. Several barns away, Colonel Dorbec was escorting a young lady on a tour of the stables. She was absolutely beautiful, perhaps the most delightfully charming young woman Hans had ever seen. He was not prone to beauty in anything, except perhaps horses, but this girl took his breath away.

“Your future wife,” Señor d’Amador stated. “It will be a perfect German union. The son of Germany’s greatest war hero and the granddaughter of our beloved Fuhrer.”