The Lance

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

The thirteen members of the Council sat at a large round table made of dark oak. The Grand Master sat in a wooden armchair like the others, the only distinction being that his chair was upholstered in black. The others were brown. The wooden box recovered from Antarctica rested on the table before him. The lid bore a golden wreath and a large swastika of solid gold set with hundreds of diamonds. The diamonds glittered in the light of the overhead chandelier.

General Dysart sat on the right of the Grand Master. Next to him was Eric Reinhardt. He was the son of SS General Dieter Reinhardt, the man who had hidden the Lance in the last months of the war.

Reinhardt had come to America with his mother in 1948. The money concealed by his father in Switzerland had provided the capital needed to start his business ventures. Now almost seventy years old, Reinhardt had built an industrial empire. He was one of America's largest defense contractors. His company had developed the new explosive that had brought down the Mosque in Jerusalem. His device had led to the hidden base in Antarctica.

Two of the members of the Council, like Reinhardt, had been born into families of SS officers who had made their way into the United States in the years after the war. The others were from families of deep cover agents known only to Himmler and a few of the original Council, placed in America before the war had begun.

All were dedicated to the SS philosophy; annihilation of the Jews, purification of the race and loyalty to the cause of Aryan supremacy and it's leader. All had attended the best American universities and colleges. All had risen to the top of their respective professions. They represented the success of Himmler's plan, if not yet the culmination.

PARSIFAL.

No one would have thought there was anything unusual about this gathering, if they had bothered to pay attention. It was common for these powerful men to meet for a social evening of cards and drinks. Everyone knew that. It was even dubbed "The Movers' Club" by the media.

The Council had been gathered for over an hour. The Grand Master addressed the group.

"Everything is now in place." He placed his hand on the box containing the Lance. "The Holy Spear is in our possession. Our success is assured. Events are going well in the Middle East. The Muslims are convinced the Jews destroyed al-Aqsa. They are preparing to attack. The Jews argue among themselves. They are likely to launch a preemptive strike, provoking an even greater response."

The Grand Master turned to Dysart.

"It's time to begin the next phase. Is everything ready?"

"Yes. The warhead will detonate on the Jew Sabbath. Our analysis indicates full-scale escalation within 24 hours. This isn't 1967. The Jews will be defeated. This time, the Angel of Death won't be passing over."

There were smiles and chuckles all around the table.

Dysart went on. "Intelligence after the blast will point to Iran. The Jews are certain to retaliate but it will be too late."

"What about the oil fields?"

"None of our scenarios indicate more than moderate damage to the fields. If the Jews use nukes they'll aim for the cities, not the oil. Mecca, Tehran, Damascus, perhaps Cairo, perhaps Islamabad. Most of their nuclear arsenal is tactical, but their missiles are capable of long range accuracy. They will simply aid us in ridding the world of more non-Aryans."

The Grand Master turned to a man on his left.

"What is the status of our naval operation?"

The man cleared his throat. "Everything is ready. Elements of the Fifth Fleet will be attacked in the Gulf of Hormuz by what appear to be Iranian gunships. There will be American casualties."

"And Rice?"

"Rice will be in Chicago addressing a convention when he receives the news. When he leaves the building, he will be assassinated."

The speaker nodded at another man sitting at the table.

"Our new President will engage the Iranians. After the air and missile strikes, the follow up invasion will leave our military overextended. It will take time to bring back the draft and increase war production, but it is so easy to manipulate public opinion. Within two years we will have the armies we need, with weapons and resources our forefathers only dreamed of."

Dysart spoke. "We have an ongoing problem, minor, but it needs to be handled. The woman, Harker. She knows too much. She needs to be eliminated, along with her unit."

"Why hasn't it been done?" The Grand Master gave Dysart a cold stare.

"They've been lucky. They escaped us in Argentina and until today I didn't know where they were. That location has been determined. I intend to take care of it personally."

"See that you do." The Grand Master looked around the circle. "Are there any other issues we need to address?"

No one spoke. Almost as one, the men stood. They raised their arms high in the Nazi salute. "Seig, Heil!"

Hail, Victory!