Soul Census - War of Shadows - Book 1

Chapter 4.1 - The Artifact

Earth Date: 15th of August 1939 CE
Location: The Margarete, Nyack Shipyards, New York, USA, Earth

Wolfe stripped out of his wet clothes and swapped them for one of the downed German’s. He then walked over to the edge and peered into the open cargo hold. Using his enhanced vision, he penetrated the darkness and stretched out with his other senses, reaching beyond the physical and into the ethereal world that was invisible to incarnates.

Beyond the cargo hold, he brushed against an ethereal odor—a dark, foul smell that reeked of death. It sparked a memory, one from a thousand years ago that still felt like yesterday. The smell of Tartarus.

Wolfe pushed the fear of that place out of his mind and continued to follow the scent with his mind. He latched onto it and carefully traced its source to below the cargo hold. Twenty cargo containers filled the Margarete’s hold, but all were just filled with dirt.

The real cargo was an ancient chest containing the head of an insidious manifestation that was once destroyed. The chest lay deeper, hidden in the quarters below, protected by a heavy metal door.

Wolfe assessed his way in. The walls into the hold slanted in diagonally about ten meters deep before touching the floor. He dropped to the edge and slid down into the hold. Once inside, he walked past the containers to the door at the end.

The door was solid steel—no knob, handle, or locks from the outside, just a sliding speakeasy grill to screen visitors. It wasn’t only guarded against the physical world; the hex signs drawn on it prevented ethereal intrusion. The elaborate pentagram symbols invoked ancient powers that would make it impossible for Wolfe to break down the door on his own… unless he had some help from the Spirit Realm.

Wolfe reached into his pants pocket and pulled out the Ouija Transponder. The ruby in its center glowed red, inviting him to press it. He was about to push it when he heard clattering footsteps behind him.

A German rose up from an opened hatch on the ground, followed by two more right behind him. The lead man wore an overly long black coat that dragged on the floor. His shiny peaked cap proudly displayed the Nazi iron eagle and swastika. From the military insignias on the collar, Wolfe surmised the man was a German SS officer. None of them appeared armed. The door to the container slid shut behind them as they approached.

Wolfe let his hand casually drop into his pocket to hide the Ouija Transponder.

The trio stopped a meter in front of him. The officer put up a hand to his men to halt them. His magnified eyes painted the lenses of his spectacles as he peered up at Wolfe.

“Guten tag,” the officer said politely.

“Guten tag,” Wolfe said, slipping into German. “You’re quite a way from the fatherland, Captain …?”

“Sturmbannführer,” he corrected. “Not ‘Captain.’ What you probably call a ‘Major’ around here. Major Himmler of the Sicherheitsdienst.”

“Ah, the German security service,” Wolfe said. “You’re still a long way from home, Major. By chance are you Heinrich Himmler?”

Wolfe caught the hint of a grimace in the officer’s expression.

“Heinrich is my brother,” Himmler said. “But that is immaterial. I am here for a greater purpose than just his interests alone.”

Himmler broke away from the other two and paced as he spoke, his arms cupped behind his back.

“You are absent any accent,” Himmler said. “You speak German like a genuine national. If it not for my better judgment, I might even be fooled into thinking you are of the Gestapo—perhaps sent by Göring to spy on me… which would be good for you, as I might let you return home unharmed for the simple purpose of bruising old Göring’s very fat ego.”

He pivoted on his feet and gave Wolfe a long look. “Or perhaps you are an American who is already home,” he said. “Who are you, and why are you here?”

“I am not the enemy, Major,” Wolfe said. “I am Heinrich Eilers. Normally I am a spy for the fatherland, but today I am acting as a messenger.”

Himmler squinted at him. “Eilers… I have heard the name. What is your message then, messenger?”

“With respect, Major, it is not intended for you,” Wolfe said.

“For my brother?” Himmler said, contempt rolling off his tongue. “That schweinehund!This is why you asked if I was him.”

Wolfe nodded. “You bear a strong family resemblance.”

Himmler’s scowl indicated he did not care for that remark. “Who is this message from?”

Wolfe purposely hesitated. “DUNN. And time is of the essence, Major.”

Himmler raised his eyebrows. “Spymaster Duquesne? Why did you not announce this in the beginning?”

Wolfe sighed. “Major, in this business one cannot blurt out secrets destined for the High Command. I had to be sure of whom I was speaking to, and already I have divulged to you more than I am authorized to.”

Himmler came up close to him. Wolfe had to blink from the spittle that ensued next.

“I am a major in the Sicherheitsdienst!” Himmler fumed. “There is little that I am not authorized to hear. Why did you not use your normal delivery channels?”

Wolfe feigned a look of surprise. “I’m sorry, Major Himmler. I assumed you were informed by your… superiors?” he said, letting the word linger for effect.

Himmler’s face sunk into a deeper shade of red. “Superiors by title only. Informed of what?”

Wolfe looked deliberately at Himmler’s two guards.

Himmler glanced to the side, then said, “You may speak freely in front of my men.”

Wolfe purposely gave a wary look. “The Americans, of course,” he whispered. “They compromised the other SD stations. I was forced to come here so that I may ensure delivery of my message to a member of the High Command.”

Blood seemed to drain from the major’s face. “Which ones were compromised?”

“All of them,” Wolfe said. “American agents infiltrated them and are interrogating survivors as we speak. That is all I can tell you. The rest I must relay to your commander at once before this station is also discovered! You have radio communications here, yes?”

Himmler seemed to be buying it. He said, “Of course… we have a radio that communicates to a U-boat off the coast, but …” His voice trailed off.

“But what, sir?” Wolfe said.

“My brother came aboard last night,” he said. “There is no need for radio, as you can relay your message to him in person.”

Wolfe suppressed a gulp. He had no interest in meddling with geopolitical affairs and was just using bits of secret intelligence he remembered to fool the major. But now he was about to be introduced to one of the Nazi government’s highest commanders.

What the hell is Heinrich Himmler doing personally here in Nyack? Whatever the reason, Wolfe could not stop now. The spiritual artifact hidden in this ship’s cargo was too important.

“Well then, what are we waiting for, Major?” Wolfe said, hiding his apprehension. “Take me to him at once!”