Le Chef - Book 1

“Science without conscience is the ruin of the soul.”

Francois Rabelais, 16th-century French Renaissance writer

Prologue

Office of Albert Vögler, President of the Kaiser Wilhelm Society - Berlin, Germany, 14 April 1945

The collapse of the Third Reich is inevitable, taking with it the Kaiser Wilhelm Society. Now, 37 years after its creation, nearly all of the many institutions under its direction have either been reduced to rubble by continuous Allied bombing or are working at a significantly reduced capacity due to a lack of personnel and resources. After heavy German losses at the Battle of the Bulge and in Stalingrad, Allied troops will soon begin their push toward Berlin with little resistance.

On this spring day, Albert Völger, politician, industrialist, entrepreneur, and the last President of the Kaiser Wilhelm Society, is in his office at the Villa Hause Ende, designed by German Architect Hermann Ende. He is feverishly combing through years of documents, deciding which must not fall into enemy hands. He hears a knock on the door as his secretary enters the room. Without looking up, he issues more orders to his young assistant.

“Excellent, Otto, come in. I have more papers to put in the fireplace.”

Otto hesitates, accepting the papers as he stands at attention next to Vögler. Vögler notices an envelope in his hand. Otto extends the note, snapping to attention as he was taught to do in the Hitler Youth program.

“Sir, a memo has arrived from Headquarters.”

Otto hands the envelope to Vögler and begins collecting the documents he will add to the fireplace. Völger, picking up the letter, notices it is from Bernard Rust, Minister of Science, Education and National Culture for the Nazi Party. Rust appointed Völger as President of the Kaiser Wilhelm Society in 1941. He hand-picked him to oversee a top-secret project that could alter warfare forever. Völger looks down and begins reading as Otto exits the room.

Herr Vögler,

It is with profound regret that I must inform you that the Exodus Seed research has been intercepted by French Resistance fighters while in transit to Austria. This tremendous loss means that you and I are the last to know of the project's existence. It is an unfortunate end to this journey. I trust you will do what must be done.

Bernard Rust, Minister

Völger rereads the message and falls back into his chair as the weight of the lost research sets in. He looks up at the window to the park fronting the Villa, slowly rising from his chair, and walks over to a wall safe, discreetly hidden behind a tapestry. He removes a folder stamped "Streng Geheim" (Top Secret) in red ink and reviews its contents. He thumbs through the remaining few pages in the file and realizes it is inadequate to continue moving the Exodus Seed project forward. He recalls the conversation with Minister Rust, in which he convinced him that he had the necessary skills to complete the project. Skills developed while President of a multinational agricultural company focusing on plant breeding and seed production. He returns to the moment and verbalizes his regret.

“The Exodus Seed project was the future of warfare and would have secured a top position for me in the Third Reich. Such a waste.”

Vögler returns to his desk and places a call he never thought he would have to make. After a few moments, the operator begins speaking.

“Yes, Herr Vögler.”

“Connect me to Austria. I need to speak with the ranking member of The Curtain Group immediately.”

“Yes, Herr Vögler. I will ring you once I have them on the line.”

Vögler replaces the receiver and sits back, feeling the weight of his despair. Minutes pass until the phone rings, snapping him out of his malaise as the operator speaks.

“Herr Vögler. I have Herr Liton on the line. Connecting the call now.”

The voice of an Englishman begins speaking.

“Mr. Vögler. My name is Liton. I am on the Board of The Curtain Group. I understand you are fluent in English. Is this correct?”

Vögler hesitates as his mind tries to make sense of the British-sounding man. Liton continues.

“Mr Vögler. Allow me to put your mind at ease. I already know you speak English. I also know of the letter you received from Minister Rust. I know this because I placed an asset in your employ a few years ago. You know him as Otto.”

Vögler’s mind begins spinning as the Englishman continues speaking.

“Albert. The Curtain Group is aware of the Exodus Seed research being captured by the French. It is, therefore, paramount that you hand over all Exodus Seed documentation to Otto. The information is vital to continue the project.”

Confused, Vögler begins to stammer.

“But, but, but you are British…”

Liton interrupts.

“Let me stop you there, Albert. We are on the clock and have it on good authority that a specialized Allied Army unit will soon arrive to take you into custody. We must conclude our business promptly.”

At that moment, Otto returns to Vögler’s office without knocking. He walks up to Vögler, takes the telephone from him, and scans the file Vögler retrieved from the safe. Vögler looks at Otto as though it is the first time he has seen him. Otto begins reporting his findings to Liton.

“Herr Liton, there’s not much here other than progress reports and a few supply manifests for equipment and chemicals. Wait…”

Otto puts down the phone to examine the documents more thoroughly. Then, he quickly picks up the receiver again.

“Sir, I can confirm that there are detailed notes from plant geneticist Carl Correns on the initial Exodus Seed discovery. It would seem Herr Vögler thought them important enough to keep to himself.”

Vögler, realizing his error in judgment, quickly takes back the receiver from Otto.

“Mr Liton. These notes belong to the Kaiser Wilhelm Society. I suggest that you…”

Vögler cannot finish his statement as Otto removes a 9mm Luger P08 pistol and points it at Völger’s face. Liton returns to speaking while Vögler stares down the gun barrel.

“Listen, Albert. The Kaiser Wilhelm Society was an experiment. It proved that privatized scientific discovery could be monetized and exploited globally. You were chosen for the position because you have a history of maximizing profits. A job that you have done very well. However, the research is the sole property of those who have funded the Society.”

Listening to Liton’s words, Vögler finally realizes the nature of the work. He was, after all, an ardent industrialist whose sole focus was maximizing profits. Liton continues as Otto lowers his gun and begins gathering the papers on the Exodus Seed project.

“The Exodus Seed project is important, but much work is still to be done before it can become operational, let alone profitable. You can rest well knowing that the notes you squirreled away could benefit the cause. Now, we have run out of time as there is, most certainly, armed military personnel on their way to take you into custody.”

Vögler’s attention is distracted as Otto hands him a small ampoule with a clear liquid inside it. Vögler accepts it hesitantly as Liton continues speaking.

“What Otto is likely handing you will allow you a clean death without pain. Swallow the liquid, and before you can count to 10, your problems will be painlessly solved. Imprisonment or the gallows will no longer be your worry. ”

Otto takes back the phone from Vögler.

“Sir, I can hear armored vehicles nearby. I will leave now and meet at the rendezvous location.”

Liton’s response is urgent.

“Do not fail, Otto. Protect those documents. We must get the Exodus Seed project back on track at all costs.”

With resolve, Otto responds.

“I will not fail Herr Liton.”

Otto puts the phone back on the cradle and notices a deep melancholy on Vögler’s face. He hears boots outside the office and starts to leave the study through the servant's entrance, but the Exodus Seed folder begins to slip from his hand, and a few pages fall to the floor. He turns to pick them up just as the door to Vögler’s office is kicked in. Otto is through the servant's door just as a unit of Allied soldiers approaches Vögler with guns drawn. At that moment, Vögler’s thoughts are about his role as the last President of the Kaiser Wilhelm Society. An institution that produced the most horrific science that the world had ever seen in the name of profit. All of it will be laid at his feet, and he will likely be hanged for the suffering and death caused by the Kaiser Wilhelm Society.

Moments later, as soldiers begin leading Vögler to a waiting troop carrier, he opens the ampoule and drinks the liquid. Ironically, the liquid is another scientific discovery by the Kaiser Wilhelm Society Institute of Chemistry. Vögler collapses dead before he can count to 5.

The Alsos Mission

Villa Hause Ende - Herdecke, Berlin Germany - 14 April 1945

Captain Wayne Stanard of the Alsos Mission wasn’t looking forward to the call with his commanding officer, Lieutenant Colonel Pash. His unit, comprised of four Naval counterintelligence agents, four interpreters, and four scientists, was the brainchild of US Army Chief of Staff General George Marshall. Their mission was to investigate and collect intelligence on the Nazi’s scientific research, especially anything relating to the Nazi’s nuclear program. Today’s objective at Villa Hause Ende was to detain Albert Vögler and retrieve all scientific documentation. It was to be a simple interrogation, but that didn’t mean it would be easy. When Alsos personnel kicked in the door, they realized Vögler knew they were coming. The radio operator hands Captain Stanard the receiver.

“Sir, I have Lieutenant Colonel Pash.”

Captain Stanard rolls his eyes and begins his report.

“Sir, I am afraid our effort to detain Albert Vögler was unsuccessful. He swallowed poison as we were preparing for his transport back to HQ. ”

Stanard’s radio operator can hear Lieutenant Colonel Pash’s displeasure at the news through the receiver. Captain Stanard begins looking for a silver lining to this cluster fuck of a situation.

“Sir, Vogler’s safe was already cleared out before we arrived, and we were unable to find any documents relating to the Nazi’s nuclear program. We did find a document that captured the attention of one of our eggheads, Dr. Johnson. Something to do with what they called “The Exodus Seed Project.” He’s pretty fired up about it, but to be clear, it has nothing to do with Nazi nuclear science.”

Captain Stanard pulls the receiver away from his ear as Lieutenant Colonel Pash begins another of his signature tirades. Eventually, he finds an opening while his Commanding Officer takes a breath.

“Sir. Dr. Johnson is here with me now. I am handing the receiver over to him.”

Captain Stanard waves over the waiting Dr. Johnson and hands the phone to the Cornell graduate with double doctorates in physics and plant biology.

“Yes, sir. This is Dr. Johnson. Sir, I came across a single page of a report prepared in 1913 by plant geneticist Carl Correns, who directed the Kaiser Wilhelm Society Institute of Biology. In the document, Correns refers to an accidental discovery of a plant mutation that could cause widespread crop failure.”

Dr. Johnson also pulls the receiver away from his ear as he listens to Pash’s loud, frustration-laced rant. Captain Stanard cannot help but hide a smile.

“No, sir. There is no connection to nuclear materials. [he pauses again as Pash continues yelling] Yes, sir. I understand, sir…but if I may, this program seemed to merit the attention of the President of the Kaiser Wilhelm Society.

Dr. Johnson’s face was a mixture of fear and anger as he received more shouting from Pash. But his patience was wearing thin.

“All due respect, sir. I was brought on to discover Nazi scientific projects, not just the ones that offer promotions to those who push them up the chain of command.”

Within earshot of the conversation, Captain Stanard has a newfound respect for Dr. Johnson for speaking to the Lieutenant Colonel that way. Dr. Johnson leans into his point and interrupts Pash.

“Excuse me, sir. Have you ever heard of the Irish Potato Famine of 1845? Millions of people either starved to death or were forced to leave their country because of a blight that killed off their food supply. If the Nazis were working to weaponize a similar biological pathogen, they wouldn’t need a nuclear bomb to wipe out an enemy. All they’d need to do is drop some seeds into an enemy's food supply.”

Dr. Johnson’s face drops as he listens to his orders.

“Yes, sir. I understand, sir. I will send this document to the Department of Agriculture for their assessment…[He pauses while Pash begins screaming again] OK. I understand. Yes, sir. I am handing you back to Captain Stanard.”

Captain Stanard takes the handset and watches Dr. Johnson storm off toward Vögler’s former office. As he enters it, his friend Dr. James (Jim) Fisk of MIT looks up and notices his colleague's demeanor.

“It is how we both imagined it would go, Johnny. They’re not interested in anything other than nuclear discoveries.”

Dr. Fisk’s words do little to console him as he drops the slightly crumpled paper back onto Vögler’s desk. Fisk reaches over and re-examines the paper.

“Johnny, it probably didn’t help your argument that this report is over three decades old. Shouldn’t the project have been completed by now?”

Dr. Johnson displays a “serious as death” look at his colleague.

“For a millennium, humanity has been altering the genetic makeup of nearly every organism on this planet. Mostly to make it more resilient to disease. Dr. Corren’s discovery could, in theory, genetically weaponize those enhancements. It could take decades or longer to figure out the exact science to replicate the discovery.”

Dr. Johnson takes the paper from Fisk, wads it up, and throws it toward the still-smoldering fireplace. He then starts waving his arms around as if displaying the room.

“And the fact that the report was in Vögler’s office makes me believe it was more than a pipe dream.”

Dr. Fisk looks outside Vögler’s office window and sees Captain Stanard finishing his call with Lt Colonel Pash.

“I hope for your sake, Johnny, that they aren’t talking about replacing you on this team…or jailing you for insubordination.”

Dr. Johnson thinks for a moment.

“No offense, Fisk. But I’ve had enough of this team, and it’s nuclear bullshit. If reassigned, I’ll refocus my efforts on plant genetics.”

“What if you are court-martialed, Johnny boy?”

Dr. Johnson smiles.

“Hell. Then I’ll have time to finish my 3rd PhD.”

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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