Chapter 13
Operation Nighthawk
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    Marvin Goldstein gazes at the council with a calculating expression and squinted eyes before coming to rest on Karl Steiner, Overt Committee Chairman, and saying with tight lips, "This goddamn Restoration.  We never planned on anything like this."
    Karl savors Goldstein's distress, says nothing and casually looks toward Dr. Ralph Bergmann, Zonno Medical Officer.
    Bergmann and Steiner seem to have rehearsed what they would present in the meeting.  He picks up several pages of type-written material and begins to speak in a very articulate voice.  "At the outset, our goals were to create a segmented America - that is one divided among races and social classes.  A valuable tool in achieving this was the encouragement and support of gangs in the expectancy that overt activities would eventually be required to carry out the Master Plan.  Indoctrination of these gangs has been accomplished rather well over the years from distribution of hate literature directed against the Caucasian and Negro races placing them as responsible for American domination of world economy for the years following World War II at the expense of lesser developed economies.  It was quite easy to place the Americans in a position of greedy opportunists in minds already dominated by hate and unlikely to think out such propaganda.  I can also tell you that activities, especially in the entertainment industry, have produced an appreciable mass psychosomatic  retro-fruition of motives and values among the younger generation after the American spirit entered its period of decline.  The intellectual and psychological silhouette of these generations was sufficiently impaired early in their lives to direct them into a rebellious outlook on authority and substantive issues.  I would only only mention a few examples:
    -"Student protests against military recruiters on college campuses.  Of great value in accomplishing this, what shall we say....drive.... was television documentaries alleging US atrocities in World War II, Vietnam and the Iraq Wars. (Author's note - this has happened on college campuses as well as protests against ROTC.)
    -"The filthy speech movement on one college campus as protest against the banning of certain pornographic magazines and books from the school library."  (Author's note -  A filthy speech movement actually occurred on a college campus during the Vietnam War).
    -"Binge drinking parties among teenagers in the middle to upper classes.  We're not especially sure if this is a protest and if so, what it is directed against."
    -"Infiltration into advertising agencies has produced a number of rather effective commercials.  I would especially mention one showing a group of young people, I suppose at a binge drinking party, doing some kind of dance with a highly suggestive sexual orientation.  It seems the sex drive of the younger generation has mutated towards an identity  with alternative life styles rather than physical attraction.  This phenomenon is observable in many situation comedies in American television depicting hardly the standard family environment - or anything natural for that matter."
    -"There was even one example of students running nude over a college campus in protest against dress codes for certain events at the college."
    "We can fully expect this section of the American society to crumble under the force of overt action.  It feels no responsibility, has an attitude of entitlement and is likely to avoid any involvement not contained within its self-oriented values."
    "I must also add that polarization of mental outlook has been largely successful among Oriental and Mexican gangs.  Drug trafficking has played an important role as well as years of exposure to hate literature characterizing them as victims of the disparity between social classes, now more obvious than ever due to the economic downturn."
    "And oh yes, next month the N double A RR (National American Association For The Recovery Of Rights) is having a mass march on Washington.  That organization is our best influence on what used to be middle-class America.  It consists largely of Caucasian and Negroes who have seen their jobs down-sized causing them to be laid off and unable to find other jobs at their past levels of income.  That damn fool Kingsley Luthermann is one of the best tools we have.  All we have to do is parade a few lobbyists before him professing legislation the organization wants and he'll do anything we tell him.  The whole march and speeches will be a dialogue against The Restoration claiming it has little concern for the middle class and is only concerned with street people and its political agenda.  They feel The Restoration has only gained the power it has through the stupidity of the lower classes and anonymous contributions.  The protest and resentful attitude that dominates this segment of the society make it very unlikely it will respond to overt action."
   Karl Steiner is shaking his head and forcefully says, "You don't recognize the power of The Restoration.  It isn't the typical religious movement, although its Mass attendance has increased over 300% since it was formed.  In fact, thus far, most of its activities have been directed towards improving the economy and medical system.  It's captured the heart of many from its position that you must feed someone who is hungry and care for someone who is sick before you attempt to save his soul.  The Restoration cannot be permitted to reunite the American society through the spirit of nationalism it's creating."
   Before the doctor can respond, Goldstein holds up his hand and says, "We've talked about theory long enough.  How much confidence do we have in the Mexicans and North Koreans to supply the men and equipment they have proposed?"
   Steiner laughs and says, "This idiotic idea of diversity and open borders has made it quite easy for us to position substantial forces and materials over many months.  Men and equipment are in place for a coordinated attack in 4 major United States cities.  Primary targets will be auto plants, auto plant material suppliers and Churches Of The Restoration.  We must destroy the reasons for the recent stock market upturn and create fear throughout the country.  The present weakened condition of national pride should not contribute to an effective response from the general populace. With hit and run tactics, we can achieve our goal before the regular army can respond.  After the initial attacks, we'll have to abandon the armor because it can't be hidden where it is now.  We must create an atmosphere of fear that can be sustained by insurgent actions. We have sufficient personnel for that.  I was interested in the doctor's comments on the younger generation.  Our intelligence places the average age of a Restoration party member at about 50.  This is attributable to the fact that those in this age category saw American before we were successful in steering it into the present degeneration.  This age group has an acquired resent for much of the political and social activities over the past 40 years.  Although small, it is steadfast and presents the greatest threat to overt action."
    Goldstein asks with growing interest, "All Bergmann has done is catalog a list of things that are not expected.  What do you expect the response will be and where will it originate?"
    Steiner's sarcasm increases with the length of the meeting.  "As to the response from the American military, we can expect a debate among branches of government as to whose responsibility it is.  Some factions will insist it is the National Guard's responsibility under the trend set forward in states rights legislation.  The plan is for a massive, forceful initial strike to establish fear.  That strike will have ended before the federal government can respond - that is if it decides the responsibility rests there."
    A measure of  doubt comes over Goldstein.  His manner becomes much more deliberative, and he asks, "What about the firepower of The Restoration?  Do we really know how prepared it is to meet the attack you propose?"
    With confidence and assurance, Steiner says, "Previously, it has responded to isolated events, only after days of preparation.  We don't believe the command structure exists for the immediate response needed to defeat the initial attack."
    Goldstein leans back, appears in deep thought for a few moments and finally asks, "Let's say everything goes as you expect.  The Restoration is surely to respond in some manner.  Just how long do you think the general populace can tolerate the sustained insurgency?"
    Steiner quickly responds, "We'll need to use the access we have to the news media to portray The Restoration as a neo-Nazi occupying force and gradually move the image of the insurgency into that of liberators.  At that point, the gangs cease overt activities against the general populace and direct them towards The Restoration."
    With guarded confidence, Goldstein says, "Agree.  The Restoration has placed the Master Plan in great peril and must be stopped now.  Your proposals are approved under the executive authority of the chair and without a council vote."

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    Fred Townsend and Franklin Earnshaw feel an emotion they cannot evaluate.  It could be one of accomplishment or one of triumph over the resent against Detroit that has ruled them for quite some time.  Both of them are standing at the end of the assembly line with their arms folded and the same conquering expression on their faces.  Outside, there is the sound of motors.  They glance at one another as they walk to the open doors.  A procession of some 15 black tanks, all having the insignia of The Restoration are moving into various buildings over the plant premises.  A number of jeeps with mounted .50 calibers are being positioned at the plant gate and in front of each of the buildings into which the tanks are moving.  Infantry soldiers with full combat load are moving about everywhere.  Some enter building 3300 and begin passing out a single-page document headed Security Procedure.

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    The Leader has just heard an extended intelligence briefing before a meeting of the Inner Circle.  C3 fully expects some type of big show in the near future from interceptions of transmissions from Germany to the United States.  The code hasn't been completely broken, and the specific nature or targets of the attack are not known.
    Lt. Colonel Green, the C3, says, "Although we can't break the code, we have uncripted several references to a central records archieve.  We've pieced together that with what we've known for some while now and believe the records are located in an underground bunker the Russians never found during the Battle of Berlin.  We've narrowed down the precise location to some 4 city blocks."
    In unison, all Circle members turn to Major Johnson, the C2.  There is a moment of silence before he realizes he is being requested to make some observation and recommendation around which some type plan can be developed.  He unrolls a map, tapes it to the wall, faces the conference table and says, "This is a map and schematic of the Berlin underground drainage system.  With a black marker, he circles a section on the diagram and says, "This is the 4 block area Colonel Green mentioned.  Getting access to these records, if they even exist and are where we think they are, would greatly simplify our task - not only in responding to the big show but making the best use of whatever we find.  There may well be records of gang contacts and plans for future propaganda directed against us and others.  The situation calls for a small commando force as well as someone with knowledge of electronic security systems and safes."
   The Leader is skeptical.  "We don't have personnel or equipment for such a mission."
   Johnson takes his seat.  "No, but we have contacts within the regular army and several other places.  We could prepare for such a mission is relatively short order."
   Without the expected deliberation or additional questions, The Leader turns to Lt. Colonel Green and says, "Put together a tactical estimate under strict security.  We'll issue the operations order as soon as you're ready."

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   Leonard Earnshaw is interviewing one of the many priests who wants to join The Restoration.  He carefully observes the voice inflection and facial expressions after his questions regarding the overall goals of the movement and return to the traditions of The Church, long lost in a series of Vatican Councils purported to bring The Church into modern times.  Still fixed on the young priest's eyes, he asks, "You realize the movement seeks to move Church and government into one body and assume much power under the Doctrine of Central Control."
   The priest says, "One need but look into the shortcomings of the fragmented medical and economic systems to see the need for such an approach.  Families have been destroyed by massive medical costs no longer covered by insurance and forced to see their loved ones suffer under the emerging pain management system that has taken over medical science."
    Just then, the secretary enters without knocking, and with something of an urgent tone in her voice, says, "The Leader has called a meeting of the Inner Circle at 11:00 am.  You should be there."
    Leonard has attended only a few meetings with The Leader and never one with the full Inner Circle.  His activities have been largely recruiting and assisting in setting up parishes and homeless shelters all over the country.  As he was delegated full authority in those duties, he has no idea why he should even be considered for an Inner Circle meeting.  As he enters the compound, he goes through several echelons of security before finally being escorted into the conference room where he is surprised to see Howard seated at the table.
    The Leader stands, raises his hands with palms up and begins a prayer.  "Most loving Father, throughout the stories history of your Church, many Crusades, many brave undertakings have went forth to foreign places for the benefit of mankind.  Many have fallen on the field of battle, and it is our most earnest hope that their souls rest in heaven and at this very moment, know of our loving thoughts of them in the tradition we of this time must now maintain.  Help us then in the task that is now ours and deny those who seek to destroy this tradition the will and determination we must now ask guide our mission in this world."  
    He takes his seat and his eyes briefly come to rest on each one in attendance before saying, "We've known for sometime some sort of big show against the movement is coming.  We've intercepted numerous radio transmissions but haven't completely broken the code.  We're going to have to undertake a rather daring mission to get the information we must have to meet what is sure to be a sizable overt action throughout the country."  He looks at Howard and Leonard and continues, "Of course, you know it is Church policy never to send a force on such a mission without a priest and medical officer.  I'll need both of you to supply a volunteer from your sections."
    Howard and Leonard glance at one another. Each seems to know what the other is thinking.  Leonard nods before saying, "Howard and I will go."
    The Leader isn't altogether surprised but looks at Howard and asks, "Can we really afford for you to leave your research?  I must tell you there is substantial peril to the mission."
    "The research aspect is complete," Howard responds.  "We have substantial documentation for any team of doctors to carry out the application phase.  My presence really isn't necessary for that.  In any event, Dr. Henderson can perform the future surgeries better than I."
    The Leader asks, "Exactly what are you doing after the initial surgery?"
    "We've developed a series of long syringes that are guided by some of the equipment previously used in laparoscopic surgery to inject the enhanceitons directly into the organs.  We've achieved very good results and will be in a position for an announcement very soon."
    The Leader asks, "Announcement?  How are you going to handle that?  Don't you anticipate a great deal of public skepticism?"
    "Rubenstein is handling that."
    The Leader is briefly amused and almost whispers, "I should have known."  He leans forward and very sternly asks, "Are you sure?"
    When Howard nods, he leans back and says, "Then, we have a priest and medical officer.  You're both excused, because you aren't cleared to participate in the formulation of the scheme of maneuver for the mission.  This is top secret.  Say nothing to anyone.  Report to the C1 section.  You'll both need to undergo a period of physical training before the mission."

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    For the next 2 weeks, Howard and Leonard are among a group of 10 men who also undergo an intense regimen of physical training.  Howard feels he is in the best condition of his life when he finds himself standing in squad formation at Restoration Headquarters with the other 10 volunteers.  Someone calls them to attention, and they all observe a tall, well built man some 55 years of age with graying blonde hair and stone-cold blue eyes that are fixed on them as he slowly walks with a slight limp across the room with his hands behind his back and grasping a swagger stick.
   An unidentified 2nd Lieutenant says, "Gentlemen, may I introduce Colonel Frederick vonLudendorf."
   Howard first glances into vonLudendorf's eyes but then settle on his fatigue jacket that has the St. Jude's Badge and Crusade Badge with 2 bronze stars, noting he has already participated in 3 special missions.  There are 2 scars on this face suggesting previous knife wounds.
   He walks across the squad formation, stops in front of Howard and says, "Doctor Earnshaw, I presume."
   Howard isn't sure what emotion it is that is streaking through his body but then he knows it is fear of whatever the mission is designed to do.  He utters, "Yes sir," before realizing he outranks the colonel.
   VonLudendorf's eyes remain fixed on him, and he asks, "What experience have you had in treating gun shot wounds?"
   "Three years emergency room residency and a number of specialized surgeries after that."
    The colonel stops in front of each man but says nothing else.  He moves to the front of the formation, slapping his swagger stick against his leg.  As he faces them, he says, "I want to thank you all for volunteering.  I can't speak of the nature of our mission but can only assure you it is one of the utmost importance in protecting the security and goals of The Restoration.  You are all to travel separately and arrive at Gate 27 of the Atlanta Airport tomorrow morning at 11:00 pm.  Bring no bags.  You will be equipped at destination."  He snaps to attention, renders a salute with his swagger stick and says, "Again, I salute you all.  May God protect us on our mission that is truly one of vital necessity and will contribute greatly in building nationalism in America."

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    The airport is in its usual state of confusion.  There are no parking places, many small mobs of people, all with the same impersonal expression on their faces, move about, often with the mistaken impression they know where they are going in the disorder.  Gate 27 is in a section of the airport that is being remodeled, and there isn't a single person in the dimly lit corridor, save the 2 SS guards in black fatigues that frisk everyone before entering the waiting area.  Everyone is ordered to immediately board the plane that is a small, 2 engine charter with no numbers or markings.  Leonard knew that Cecil Stratman would volunteer for the mission from the moment he first learned of it, and he takes his seat immediately in front of him and Howard.  A small, dark, black-headed man, who wasn't in the physical training preparation, passes down the aisle.  Leonard leans towards Howard and says, "I saw a picture of Vitorio Rigoletti in the paper a few years ago.  I swear that man looks just like him."
    Howard asks, "Who is Vitorio Rigoletti?"
    Leonard's intrigue builds with each passing minute.  "Reportedly, the world's most efficient safe-cracker."
    A man in the seat behind them says, "I thought he was in prison."
    Cecil joins the conversation and simply says, "He was."
    Immediately, Leonard's thoughts turn to the day he was ordained and how he so much was looking forward to being assigned to a parish.  He had so many ideas for homilies and parish activities.  Now he finds himself on a secret mission with a group of men he has never seen and apparently with the vital participation of a convicted felon.
   As the plane begins a slow taxi to a runway closed since a recent addition to the airport, it passes several Restoration jeeps with mounted .50 calibers.  It takes off, climbs to a cruising altitude of 30,000 feet and begins a slow turn towards the northeast.
   Howard is in and out of an unsettled sleep.  His thoughts are very similar to his brother's, as he can see himself during his years in medical school and how he felt so at ease during his hospital residency but over the years, the system changed so much that he found himself losing what was once a firm conviction and developed an attitude he had once been so quick to criticize in others.  At least, The Restoration has restored his motives, although they are now so completely different than those of what seems another life.  But then, he wonders if what he feels is really conviction or simply an easily understood anger and resent for all that has happened to his career and the country as well.  Is it a false illusion that has driven him to this strange and frightening mission - a place he really doesn't belong at all?
   Leonard's head is propped against his seat, and he is looking at what appears ocean below the night sky.  The moon creates momentary streaks of light in the sky and water that add to his unsettled and apprehensive feelings.  He can see the faces of so many in confession over the years - that is before the latest Vatican Councils discontinued the sacrament in continuing efforts to modernize the Church.  He can see the harsh resent on the faces of many in the homeless shelters before he enlisted in The Restoration but now, in his many trips to parishes around the country, that has all changed.  Those in the shelters have been given jobs in a number of local crusades, and there is a new feeling of purpose and hope for their remaining lives.  He hopes his own conviction has also changed and that he isn't only undergoing a self-manufactured front to convince himself and anyone else who seems to care that he has at last regained the conviction long lost to changes within the Church.
   There is no communication within the cabin during the flight.  When the plane slows and begins to reduce altitude, he looks at his watch.  It's 5:00 am.  A city comes into view, and someone says, "That looks like Berlin."
   The plane touches down and begins a long taxi to the end of a runway far from the terminal.  VonLudendorf orders everyone off.  The plane is immediately refueled from a tanker truck already there.  It quickly turns, contacts the tower and takes off just as Leonard points to a group of 4 limousines speeding towards them.  They all enter the vehicles and exist the airport from the entrance to a vacant repair hanger.  The vehicles take separate routes and move through the streets of Berlin.  No one says a word and only stares at the people on the streets and some of the buildings that somehow have managed to retain the charm of another era.  They're in the older part of the city and stop in front of a small church at the end of a dead end street.  Immediately, a priest emerges from the building and directs them into the basement of the church.  As he enters the building, Howard looks around, and the limousines are already gone.
    All the men, still very mystified and with building apprehension, are escorted into a room where breakfast is already prepared and waiting on 3 tables, complete with white tablecloths and what appears antique table settings.  There is very little talk.  Each man is consumed in his own thoughts - not the least of which is a troublesome question as to the merit of his volunteering for the mission.
    The same priest reappears and says with a heavy German accent, "Gentlemen, if you will please follow me," and leads them to another room with neatly spaced bunks, each having an equipment bag at its foot.  Everyone's eyes first fall on the M20 automatic weapons in the rifle rack at the back of the room.
    VonLudendorf walks through the row of bunks and calmly says, "Get some rest.  We are in for, what shall we say, a trying night."
    Still without much talk, each man lays in his bunk and begins a fixed stare at the ceiling, hoping sleep might restrain his punishing apprehension.  For Howard, sleep is intermittent - so much so that at frequent intervals, he again finds himself staring at the ceiling and isn't sure if he has been asleep at all.  His fingertips and throat tingle with the beats of his heart, and he is startled by the creaking door when the priest again appears and takes them all back into the other room where the wall clock shows it is exactly noon, and there is a lavish meal on the tables.  VonLundendorf says, "Eat a good meal.  We'll not eat again before the mission begins.  You can't run on a full stomach you realize."
    After the meal, they return to the bunks but do not attempt sleep.  Without being told, they all begin sorting through the equipment bags.  Howard only has his emergency medical equipment and again is startled when the priest lays a M20 on his bunk with an ammunition belt containing ten 30 round magazines.  A few other men he hasn't seen before begin passing out helmets with lights on the front, similar to those worn by coal miners.  Some of the men are given smoke grenades and others receive fragmentation grenades.  Howard picks up his weapon and goes through a process to be sure be remembers the training that preceded the mission.  He checks the fire selector switch, safety lock and cocks the weapon several times.  All the others do the same, and the chorus of clanking noises sends chills through his body.  He looks at his weapon and then at his medical bags.  He never thought his education, career and what he always described as worthwhile ambitions would some day find him in a foreign country, in a room with Crusaders, most of whom he had never seen, and not even knowing what the next few hours might hold, or even if he would live to see another day.
   Rigoletti is in a corner all alone and is masked behind cigarette smoke.  He has no weapon but is looking through a number of small satchels with electronic devices.  There is a cigarette that seems it might fall from his mouth at any moment, and he is intently involved with attaching various wires to the devices and observing the green and yellow lights that appear on the digital screens.
    By sunset, some of the men are pacing about the room and appear relieved when the priest enters and says something to vonLundendorf who nods, faces the men and says, "Suit up." 
    Again, there is the penetrating rattling sounds from the weapons and the unharmonious brushing sounds of the straps as the men put on their full combat load.
    Still with a reassuring calm, vonLundendorf says, "If you will all come with me," and leads them into a dimly lit room, that must have been part of a convent at one time, where there are maps, street diagrams and overlays on 2 field tables.  The overlays have large black marks and arrows pointing to a city block circled in red.  VonLundendorf stands behind one of the tables and says, "Surely, you must know there has been some organization to the attacks against many of the Crusades of The Restoration.  Our mission is to obtain vital information C2 is quite certain exists somewhere in the marked area here."  He points to one overlay and begins tapping his finger in the center of the red circle.  We're not completely certain what we're looking for but recent intelligence, combined with what was already known, leaves little question that a big show will soon be directed against The Restoration.  We must obtain as much information as possible in order to prepare."
    All the men expected to hear much more detail about the mission and are surprised when the priest is leading them to a small hallway leading to the rear entrance to the church.  He will apparently accompany them on the mission and is wearing a web belt with .45 caliber pistol.  There is a 3/4 ton truck with canvas cover over the cargo bed just outside the door.  The men enter, the tarp is drawn down and the truck slowly moves onto the street.  After only 5 or so minutes, it comes to a stop.  No one moves or does anything for quite a few minutes until the driver lifts the tarp and says, "Clear," in a short and snapping voice. 
    They all move in single file into an underground culvert that is old, has a damp atmosphere and there is the constant sound of dripping water that adds to everyone's fear by building punishing imaginations as to the possible outcome of the uncertain mission. 
    VonLudendorf whispers, " Helmet lights on," as they all move with the priest at the head of the file into the formidable dark.
    Suddenly, the priest falls, his helmet skids across the pavement, comes to rest and sends a rattling vibrating sound that echoes in the darkness ahead.  
    Howard whispers, "Damn!" as the file resumes its cautious advance before coming to a stop.
    As the advance continues at a slower pace, vonLundendorf is at the side of the tunnel carefully directing the advance through the skeleton remains of a group of what must have been Russian soldiers killed during the Battle of Berlin.  Just then, there is the sound of German voices somewhere ahead.  VonLundendorf turns off his light, and everyone else does the same.  He finds his way back towards the head of the file, kneels and keenly listens to the footsteps of an approaching single person.  Soon, a man with an automatic weapon appears and walks by vonLundendorf as though he were not even there.  Calmly, vonLudendorf taps the man on the shoulder as if he were about to ask directions.  The man turns, begins to bring his weapon forward but vonLudendorf makes a single swipe with his campaign knife across his throat.  His neck is severed half through, his head peels back and comes to rest on his shoulders as he remains standing for a moment before he drops his rifle and his legs collapse under him.
    With the care of a high-price housekeeper, vonLudendorf cleans his knife on the man's shirt before replacing it in his sheath.  He kneels close to the priest who begins making several pointing gestures in various directions.  VonLudendorf seems engrossed in deep thought for a moment before motioning the file forward and saying, "Keep lights off."
    The procession creeps forward, staying close to the side of the culvert, into the eerie blackness that seems pulling them into a vacuum from which they will not escape.  Again, there is footsteps and now several voices ahead.  The priest draws his pistol and affixes a silencer.  He and vonLudendorf move a few steps forward to a curve in the culvert where they can see a dim light some distance ahead and the silhouettes of 2 men slowly moving towards them.  When they are about 20 feet ahead, the priest fires 2 well-placed rounds, and the men fall face-down, making a splashing sound in the stream of water in the middle of the culvert.  VonLudendorf looks at the priest with his mouth slightly open and again replaces his knife in his sheath.
   They resume the painstaking pace towards the dim light.  Howard grasps Leonard by the arm and points to several swastikas painted on the walls.  They move into the area where the guards were where there are several tables only having magazines with naked women on the covers.  There is a small stairway, and vonLundendorf goes down the steps alone.  He soon signals the others to follow, and they enter an underground bunker.  The streams of light from their helmets pierce through thick particles of dust in the musty air until someone finds a light switch.  The dim light from a single bulb hanging from the ceiling reveals a room that hasn't been used for decades.  VonLudendorf mutters, "Goddamn!" as they all look around the disorganized, dusty area with thick, concrete walls.  There a picture of Karl Marx hanging at a 45 degree angle on one wall but in unison, all eyes are focused on the back wall that has a large image of the Star of David with a swastika in the center.  Puzzled expressions come over their faces as they glance at one another and shake their heads.
    The priest pulls the street diagram from his jacket and he and vonLundendorf begin frantically pointing at where they think they are under the streets.  VonLudendorf keeps impatiently asking, "What's there....what's there?"  Finally, he exhales, places his hands on his hips, stares at the floor and asks, "What's above where we are right now?"
    "A bank," the priest responds.
    Something of an enlightened expression comes over vonLudendorf as he says in a barely auditable voice, "A bank....a bank."  He motions for Rigoletti, and the 2 of them have a hasty conversation before Rigoletti is leading the group back up the steps and towards another stairway in the area where the guards were.  They come to a steel door with several red lights at the top.  There is another muted conversation.  Rigoletti begins searching through his satchels, producing several electronic instruments and begins carefully studying the small electrical box at the right side of the door.  He opens the face and begins a closer examination of the series of red, yellow and green wires before a twisted smile comes to his face, and he mumbles, "That's pitiful."  He confidently splices the yellow and green wires, attaches clamps to them that are connected to another device that looks like a miniture notebook computer.  Another clamp is affixed to the red wire.  He strikes a number of keys on the computer.  Several windows come up with progress bars.  He alternates his attention between the various devices until all red lights above the door go out and a single green light above them comes on.
    For a moment, vonLudendorf seems to lose thought of the mission, and with the tone of a 9th grade science student, asks, "What did you just do?"
    "Elementary, vonLudendorf," Rigoletti triumphantly responds.  "I routed the current into the computer that read the input, filtered it and resent the message to the alarm."  He moves to a digital combination lock, pushes each number and looks at a series of short and long running lines on the computer screen.  Soon, there is a popping noise.  Each man flinches but Rigoletti casually grasps the doorknob, opens the door, raises one hand with palm up extending towards the inside of the bank and says to vonLudendorf, "Enter, my Lord."
   As the men file by, he still has his palm up and looks them directly in the eyes before breaking into a sadistic laugh.
   They fumble around in the dark for a few moments before someone finds the light switch, and they find themselves in a small room with only filing cabinets and one small desk.  VonLudendorf motions to a few of the men and begins speaking German.  They begin looking at the labels on the filing cabinets while Rigoletti has his arms folded, leaning against the wall and with the most amused expression on his face.
    Leonard walks over to Rigoletti and asks, "Don't you think whatever it is we're looking for would be on computer records?"
    Rigoletti begins to shake his head and says, "Not a chance in hell.  Such records to too prone to access by hackers."  He removes a small pouch from his fatigue jacket that contains still more digital instruments, starts humming to himself and rotating his head from side to side.  He has several of the cabinets open in no time.
    Two men begin searching through them just as vonLudendorf says, "Be very careful to replace everything just where you found it."  One of them produces a small camera and begins a painstaking process of photographing each document.
    Rigoletti is in the corner, replacing his instruments and mumbling to himself, "When I was doing this for a living, I was getting better pay than this."
    Presently, all the documents are photographed, carefully replaced in the cabinets, and the detail moves back down the steps.  VonLudendorf kneels at the bottom of the steps and says, "We've got to make it appear we never got into the room upstairs."
    Two men pull crowbars from their satchels and begin making scratch marks on the door before placing a gel-like substance attached to several wires leading to another digital box.  Rigoletti begins reconstructing the wires in the alarm box with the skill of a surgeon until they appear they have not been tampered with.  He says, "Get ready to haul ass," removes the final clamp, and the alarm immediately sounds.
    They all dash back into the culvert just as running steps of quite a few men can be heard.  One of the men pushes a button on his digital box, and there is a small explosion at the door leading to the records room. 
    VonLudendorf says, "Move!" and they all run at top speed further into the culvert.
    There is shouting German voices behind them just as they come to a turn in the culvert where vonLudendorf calls a halt and places several riflemen in the kneeling position.  Just before they can open fire, the pursuers get off several shots and strike 3 of the riflemen before the others begin pumping well-placed tracer rounds over the full width of the culvert.  Several of the pursuers are hit, confusion takes hold, and the pursuit is momentarily stopped.  The priest runs to the side of the men who were hit but they are obviously dead.  He kneels, places a purple pallium around his neck and hurriedly says, "Almighty Father, in this world that you created, there is both good and evil.  Bless and have mercy on those who have fallen in pursuit of what is good.  May their supreme sacrifice purge the sins from their souls and may they on this day take their places at the sides of those who have fallen in all the Crusades throughout the centuries.  Protect the Crusaders of this day for theirs is truly the cause of peace and mercy, for it is only one Church and one belief that can prevail over evil."  Briefly, he remains at their sides, closes their eyes and begins running to join the others.  A single shot rings out and strikes him squarely between the shoulders, knocking him off his feet and propelling him several feet forward where he falls face-down in the small stream of water on the culvert floor.
    VonLudendorf dashes forward, looks at the gapping cavern in his back and the blood gushing into the water.  He removes a small bottle from his pocket, sprinkles some sort of liquid of the priest's body and sets it on fire in what is an obvious effort to conceal involvement of anyone from the Berlin church.
    Again, they're all running at top speed and approach another turn.  VonLudendorf grabs one man by the arm and shouts, "Here."
    The men take off their field packs and begin sprinkling marbles across the culvert floor.  As the retreat resumes, there is the sound of men's bodies striking the floor and what must be loud profanity in German.  Up there ahead, the culvert opens into a river.  VonLudendorf stops and motions the men up a steep bank just outside the culvert and opens fire on the pursuers which now are reduced to about 12 men.  Automatic weapons fire erupts, VonLudendorf is struck just above the collar bone, and he immediately falls flat on is face, remaining motionless on the ground.
    Howard and Leonard dash down the bank, kneel at his side and Howard begins to observe his wound.  Two other men come sliding down the bank and begin a steady stream of rifle fire inside the culvert keeping the pursuers pinned down. 
    Semi-conscious, VonLudendorf reaches out for Leonard's hand and weakly says, "Pray for...." before passing out. 
    Howard unwraps a first-aid packet and glances down at the wound which is a vivid anatomy chart.  The round went completely through vonLudendorf's neck just below the anterior superficail and deep cervical chain.  It shattered a portion of the thyroid cartilage and luckily passed between the external jugular vein and subclavian vein, barely missing the second cervical vertebra.  There is no gushing blood but only a slight ooze with each heartbeat.  He leans down and whispers into vonLudendorf's ear, "Hold on.  Your wound can be treated.  Keep your mind on something else.  The main risk is your going into shock."
    Two men hoist vonLudendorf up the bank just as several smoke and fragmentation grenades are thrown into the culvert.  More marbles are dropped just inside.  At the top of the hill is the same 3/4 ton truck that delivered them to the church and 2 unmarked sedans with magnet-held, blue flashing lights on top.  In a moment, everyone is inside the truck and it is speeding through the streets of Berlin preceded by the screaming sirens of the sedans.  After they have been on the streets for some few minutes, the sirens stop and the sedans disappear down a small side street.  The truck enters the airport through the same maintenance gate where the jet is on the runway with its motors already running.  First, Howard and Leonard place vonLudendorf inside the plane where there is a small surgical table with an assortment of instruments at its side.
    In no time, everyone is inside the plane.  The moment the door slams, its speeding down the runway, takes off and goes into a 30 degree turn at about 300 feet altitude, passing directly over the city and barely clearing some of the buildings.  Suddenly, it goes into a near 90 degree climb to a high altitude and then there is a 360 turn back over Berlin.  When it levels off at cruising speed, Howard carefully removes the first aid bandages from vonLudendorf's neck.  Again, he studies the wound, nods his head and begins talking to himself.  "Good....good.  No uncontrolled bleeding."  He packs the severed tissue behind the thyroid back in place and begins a temporary suturing process with non-absorbent silk material, being careful to keep pressure off the exposed vertebra.
    VonLudendorf's eyes open, and he whispers, "Priest."
    "He's here." Howard says.
    Leonard firmly holds vonLudendorf's hand and begins his prayer, knowing that is what he wants.  "Some can choose their purpose in this life but many must wait for purpose to seek them out.  Truly, this man has served the Church on this night but has much more to give.  May his strength and determination prevail and lead him to to another day, perhaps another night such as this, for much purpose remains in his heart, and he can do so much for the cause that has existed in this world since Christ himself suffered under his own wounds on the Cross.  His purpose could not be defeated and neither should the will and purpose of Frederick vonLudendorf.  God have mercy on the departed souls of those who have fallen on this mission.  May their will and purpose remain in our hearts and lead us on to another mission, another Crusade.  Surely, this is what Christ intended - that we seek our purpose; or when meaningful purpose seeks us out, we not turn away.  Amen."
    The plane remains at a very high altitude; and during the flight back to Atlanta, vonLudendorf is in and out of consciousness but does not go into shock.  Howard is checking his wound and IV just as the pilot begins to reduce speed and enter the landing pattern.  As they gently touch down on the runway, Howard notices an ambulance and several other vehicles that fall in behind the plane that immediately stops in the middle of the runway.  Dr. Henderson and several nurses are dashing towards them. They carefully move the stretcher and stop at the rear of the ambulance.  Dr. Henderson quickly examines the patient's wound.  A gradual smile comes over his face.  He stands, faces Howard and says, "Good job, Howard," before turning to a nurse and giving instructions to be radioed to the hospital for preparation of the operating room.  
    As the plane starts taxing towards the hanger, the ambulance speeds off the runway with its siren booming and begins a frantic course towards Henderson Hospital.  The camera containing the filmed records is taken by a single person who enters one of the other vehicles and exits the airport by another route.  Those who have survived the mission seem somewhat dazed as they stand perfectly still and watch the ambulance and car until they are out of sight.  A 3/4 ton truck approaches, and Stratman motions them into the vehicle which takes yet another route to Restoration headquarters.

________________

    It's been several days since the mission, and Howard is in his office at Henderson Hospital reviewing the charts for the patients receiving post-operative therapy.  He can't purge the images of the mission from his mind and tosses the charts on his desk.  He can see Leonard at his side as they were kneeling with vonLudendorf and remembers how it momentarily reminded him of the games they would play as children.  He could hear his mother's gentle voice calling them for lunch, all mixed in with the plane's motors and sounds of the men dropping their equipment.  He finds himself on his feet and walking towards vonLudendorf's room.  Dr. Henderson is there making notations on his chart.  When vonLudendorf sees Howard, a smile comes to is face that is now twisted all across the right side.
    Henderson says, "He had a slight facial stroke shortly after surgery."
    Howard looks at the chart and then at vonLudendorf who is extending his hand to him.  He walks to his bedside, and vonLudendorf says, "Th....than....thank you."
    Howard and Henderson walk out of the room, and Henderson pulls him over to the side of the hallway.  "That was some remarkable work you did.  If I had seen the x-ray of someone with that wound, I would have called the undertaker rather than preparing an operating room."  His mood immediately changes, and he adds.  "I'm conferring with Rubenstein on the research.  We feel we need to make some sort of announcement fairly soon.  He's got a bunch of Jewish lawyers lined up, because they all feel we can expect all sorts of challenges from the system."
    Walking back to his office, those words ring over and over through Howard's mind - the system....the system.  How many times had he felt so helpless in relegating patient after patient into the pain management system, because the insurance network had become so under funded due to mismanagement by 50 different state systems, all under some idiotic idea that administration should be returned to local governments.  He's sitting at his desk and again staring at the therapy charts but can't concentrate.  He can still hear the gunfire echoing through the culvert and see the bright tracer rounds tearing into men's bodies and striking the concrete walls, causing sparks that reminded him of the toy sparklers his mother would always get for her children on the 4th of July and New Year's eve.  
    There is a knock at the door.  A corporal enters, hands him a brown envelope and says, "From headquarters."
    He opens the envelope and removes the Saint Jude's badge second award with a star in the center of the wreath and a Campaign Badge.  Immediately all thoughts and sounds of the mission depart and he can only see Charlotte that day she received her Saint Jude's Badge.  Just as though she were in the office with him, he can see her carefully pinning it to her uniform.  Then it all returns - the sound of gunfire and men shouting.  He can see her at the Techside Campaign site, assisting the medics with the wounded and that horrible feeling returns to his stomach as he watched the rounds skip across the ground before striking her body and ending a meaningful life that had just begun.  He breaks down into uncontrolled sobs.