PARADOX - Chapter 3

April 23, 2012 – Bavaria Germany



Monday and Daria sat at a small table on a sidewalk with a good view of the Obersalzberg mountain retreat. True to his word, their Attorney provided them with a copy of the documents extracted from her Grandmother’s burial dress. In her other hand, she held the original note, which discussed the more shocking mystery.

“I feel guilty about hiding this last piece of information from the antiquities representative,” Daria stated. “The German government could be of great help in finding the secret behind it. They have diplomatic connections with other countries and assets we don’t have.”

“Question is, will the German government be notified of either find?” Monday rubbed his hands together between his knees. Daria turned to him with a questioning look on her face.

“I didn’t particularly like the look on the Cultural Minister’s face.” Monday replied to her unasked question. “Nor for that fact do I trust our friendly attorney.”

“But they did give us a copy of the documents,” Daria noted. “Doesn’t that show that they have so far been open in their dealings with us?”

“Not long ago, I gave a fellow archeologist some inside information on a dig site in Italy. He was a trusted friend and we discussed opening the site as a team. He intentionally beat me to the site, uncovered some valuable finds, and took all the credit for himself. Trust is something that I find hard to give.”

“Are you saying they may find the gold and pretend they never heard of us?”

“I’m saying that they may find the gold and conveniently get rid of us. Twenty tons of pure gold has a market value large enough to buy a small country. The temptation to keep it for themselves may be too much for them to bear.”

“We have witnesses,” Daria stated. “The priest, the others at the grave site.”

“We have witnessed to the disinterment of your grandmother and taking her body to the funeral home. We have no witnesses to finding any documents.”

“Are you saying that we are in danger?”

“We very well may be.”

“Should we go to the authorities, the police, the government?”

Monday thought about her question for a long time. If they went public with the information about the gold, they would also have to give up the note about Hitler’s other secret. He wasn’t yet ready to throw away one of the most astonishing pieces of historical evidence ever discovered. Also, the mention of an alternate treasure, one that may change the world, was intriguing and pounded like a hammer against his archeological mind.

“No. If we go to the authorities we give up everything,” he finally replied. “But we do need help and protection and I know where to get it if you’re willing to part with some of that finder’s fee you’ll get from the gold.”

“Help from where? Some of your university colleagues?”

“No, from colleagues of a somewhat different nature.” Monday grinned. “I served near here in Bad Tolz with the US Army 10th Special Forces Group. I have many friends from the Group that I keep in contact with. I would trust them with my life.”

“What are Special Forces?” Daria’s face scrunched in curiosity.

As a peaceful civilian, Monday suddenly realized that she would have only a broad general knowledge of any military. “They’re the Green Berets. Like Navy Seals, British Special Air Service or German Kommando Spezialkraefte (Kampswimmer.), hard corps commandos who take chances.”

“You were a Kampswimmer?”

“I was Special Forces.”

“I always thought of you as the professor type. I never imagined that you could be like Arnold Schwarzenegger or Bruce Willis.”

“I am the professor type,” Monday smiled. “Professor of Archeology and proud of it.”

“More like Indiana Jones,’ Daria replied with an impish grin.

“I have access to some immediate funds. It should be enough to get us started on the hunt for the gold. I know it won’t be enough for a sustained expedition to South America. I think most of my old Team will have emergency funds set aside for rainy days. The only way to find out for certain is to contact my old executive officer and try to persuade him to join the effort.”

Monday removed his cell phone from his shirt pocket and scrolled down until he found the number he wanted. A few moments later a deep voice answered.

“Chester,” Monday said, standing up in front of Daria. For a full twenty minutes he continued to pace back and forth while he talked on the phone. Finally, with a laugh and sigh of accomplishment he hung up.

“He’s in,” Monday stated. “He’s going to contact the rest of my old Team and see how many want to join the search. He knows that time is a consideration and will get back to me as soon as he can.”

“Chester?” Daria took a sip of her drink

“We called him Chester the Molester,” Monday stated with a smile. “His true name is Chester Schmidt and he was my executive officer on the Team.”

“Molester?” Daria had a look of disgust on her face.

“A term of endearment,” Monday chuckled. “Each member on the Team had a nickname and more often than not we called them by that name instead of their real name. Names like Kenny “The Scout” Carney, Graydon “Bones” Zanyk, Charlie “Weps” Lanier, and Mike “The Geek” Grace. Chester was our language expert, Kenny was demolitions and tactics, Graydon was medic, Charlie was weapons, and Mike was communications. Of course there were other members of the team depending on mission needs and objective parameters and everyone was cross trained in the specialties of the others to some degree.”

“Sounds like something out of a Hollywood movie.” Daria shook her head. “You Americans always act like cowboys.”

“That’s me,” Monday grinned. “Cowboy.”

Daria rolled her eyes at him. “Monday “The Cowboy” Stiehl!”

“Just Cowboy.” Monday looked at his watch. “As much as I’d like to stick around, if I’m going to get moving on this treasure hunt there are a hell of a lot of things I need to get done.”

“What do you mean I?” Daria stood. “We’re in this together… Cowboy.”

“It’s far too dangerous for someone without special training.” Monday shook his head in a negative gesture.

“No Daria, no hunt.” She defiantly folded her arms. “I may not be a Kampswimmer or commando and you may think I’m just a flibbertigibbet, but I have my uses and it was my quest, my documents from the start.”

“Let’s talk about it over dinner.” Monday pointed towards a restaurant from which delicious smells assaulted his nose.

From across the street and several cars down, a well-dressed man pulled a device back into his dark sedan. The device was an amplifier that allowed him to overhear every word they had spoken. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed a special number in Italy.