Blood of the Reich Read Free Page B

ancestors and the inhabitants of Tibet. It is a symbol of the god Thor. Fifty years ago Guido von List made it a symbol of the Thule Society’s neo-pagan movement. A key to our racial past in the high Himalayas, we could speculate.”
    “You think the Tibetans are Aryans?”
    “Their royalty, perhaps, are our cousins. There are theories.” Himmler bent to the folder and summarized its contents. “Invited to hunt with Air Minister Göring, lectures in London and Heidelberg, a lovely young wife”—the Reichsführer paused, looking at Raeder over the rim of his glasses—“who you killed.”
    Now the sweat again. “Accidentally.” He felt continually off-balance in this interview. Was that purposeful?
    “Bitter tragedy. Hunting, was it not?”
    “I was swinging a shotgun on a flight of ducks and stumbled on another loaded weapon on the bottom of our boat. It went off. Lotte died instantly.” That was the official story. His tone was hollow, remembering the horror, guilt, and relief. Her blood had pooled to the floorboards. Her brains had spattered the water. He’d felt trapped by Lotte’s family, which had grown suspicious of his needs. And now? “It was inexcusably clumsy.”
    No, it wasn’t. Did the Kripo, the criminal police, suspect?
    “The kind of cruel memory that can only be expunged by new experience,” Himmler said briskly, flipping a page. “By returning, perhaps, to Tibet, but this time without the Americans. Returning with men from my organization’s Ancestral Heritage Research and Teaching Society, the Ahnenerbe, which studies our Aryan past. Are you hard enough, committed enough, to lead an SS team there, Raeder?”
    The zoologist swallowed. Here was what he’d hoped for, dreamed of, now offered despite—or was it because of?—the bitter memory of Lotte’s death. “If called on by the Fatherland, Reichsführer .”
    Himmler snapped the folder shut. “You have ample reason to desire a change of pace, to forget the past, to put all your energies into a mission for the Reich. Germany has a bright future, Raeder. If you succeed, it will make any lingering questions about the end of your marriage irrelevant. If you fail . . .”
    He swallowed. “I understand.” His heart was pounding, which annoyed him. Control.
    “Did you have apprehension about today’s visit, Untersturmführer ?”
    “Any man would be nervous at meeting so august a personality . . .”
    “Any man would be frightened.” Himmler waved his hand to acknowledge the obvious. He enjoyed the fear, Raeder realized. He drew strength from it. He reveled in the black uniforms. Himmler had longed to serve in World War I, missing by a year. “And yet tell me, Raeder, am I really that intimidating? I, a man who only wants to secure the future of the German Reich?”
    “I appreciate . . .”
    “I am direct because I have to be. I mentioned the unfortunate death of your wife because I don’t like things unsaid, sticking to the corners of normal conversation. I do unpleasant things for our Führer , blunt things, direct things, so that he can fulfill his destiny without their burden. He sees what ordinary men cannot. He leads our purification.”
    “The Führer is a remarkable man.” He felt like Hitler’s picture was looking down on them.
    “ ‘Why Tibet?’ you wonder. Does the chicken farmer Himmler want more bird skins from Asia?” He gave that thin smile. “No, more than that. Much more, Raeder, more than you’ve ever dreamed in your life. So I want you to visit me in my SS headquarters near Padenborn, the new center of the world.”
    “Center of the world?”
    “I’m inviting you to be my guest at Wewelsburg Castle. I want you to understand the full meaning of your mission in the place I’m making the true heart of our organization. Bring your maps of Tibet, Raeder.”
    “And my goal, Reichsführer ?”
    “To help conquer the world. Bring your maps, in one week’s time.”

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    Seattle, United