The Time Portal 5: The Nazi Read online

  Also by Joe Corso

  The Time Portal Series

  The Old Man and the King

  The Starlight Club Series

  The Revenge of John W

  The Adventures of the Lone Jack Kid

  The Comeback

  Engine 24: Fire Stories

  The Time Portal 5

  The Nazi

  By Joe Corso

  Time Portal 5

  Joe Corso

  Copyright 2014 by Joe Corso

  Published by

  Black Horse Publishing

  Cover Art by Marina Shipova

  Formatting by BZHercules.com

  Black Horse Publishing

  www.blackhorsepublishing.com

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of the author or publisher, except where permitted by law or by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine or journal.

  All Rights Reserved.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Epilogue

  PROLOGUE

  Krystina was seated in a chair in the front of the room, facing her accuser. She was in tears, asking for her baby, but the inquisitor general was too busy questioning the princess if she consorted with the devil to concern himself with a bothersome baby. He was about to ask her another question when Lucky suddenly appeared out of nowhere beside the princess. When he materialized, she was so relieved to see him that she couldn’t speak. She looked up at him and smiled as tears flowed down her face copiously, but the tears were tears of joy. The priests and spectators alike in the room gasped. One man held his hand to his heart, while others looked toward the heavens, asking God to save them. The entire room fell silent. They were in shock, having witnessed an apparition suddenly appearing before them. There he stood, a man dressed in black from head to toe, and they were frightened. They could not see the man’s face because it was covered in black, and the black clothes he wore were unlike any they had ever seen before. When he spoke, they trembled.

  “I heard you ask the princess where the devil was. Am I the devil you were looking for, the one you wished to see?” No one spoke. “You . . .” he said, pointing to a trembling priest, “tell me, am I the one you wished to speak to?”

  The priest said nothing.

  “Speak up. I cannot hear you. Did you lose your tongue? Answer me. Am I the one you wanted to see? I am here now, so ask me your questions and I will answer them for my wife.”

  After making many signs of the cross, the priest finally summoned the courage to ask, “Who . . . what are you?”

  “I am King Robert’s wizard.” Lucky figured he might as well exaggerate a little. “I have defeated armies in the king’s name. I have saved his kingdom from crusaders and marauders. How dare you ask me who I am. Do you think your pitifully few armed guards can stop me?”

  The priest stood, gathering courage, and he motioned for the guards to remove Lucky.

  “Take him to the dungeon. We will question him there.”

  The guards wanted no part of the wizard. They were too frightened. The priest yelled to them, “Take this man or lose your heads,”

  Slowly, the men inched forward. As they closed in on him, Lucky leaned to his left and vanished before their eyes.

  “Over here, dolts. Come and get me,” he taunted. They rushed him once again, but this time, he appeared behind the chief inquisition priest, with a knife to his throat. He bent down and whispered in the priest’s ear.

  “Tell them to back away now, or I will kill you as you sit.”

  “Men, stay where you are; do not charge,” the priest shouted.

  “Now,” Lucky said as he spread his legs and crossed his arms defiantly. “Permit me to demonstrate my power, my magic. Allow your eyes and ears to see and to hear, so that they may believe.”

  Lucky pulled his Herstal FN 5.7 from its holster and pointed it around the room. Those in the room, on the floor, including those in the upper gallery, held their breath, wondering what the strange object he held was, and what it would do. Ten rounds of loud gunshots, fired in quick succession at windows and anything that would break, stilled the silence. Glass shattered, holes appeared in the walls; people fell to their knees in shock and fear. Fire came from the object he held in his hand. This was indeed the great wizard of myth and of rumor. The man whose stories were told all throughout the kingdom. Stories had spread of the wizard’s deeds and of his miracles, like the fire he possessed. Some called it thunder from the sky; others proclaimed that the earth had moved. Many had heard of King Robert’s wizard. Now all those in this room had seen him demonstrate his powers firsthand.

  Lucky holstered his gun and pointed toward the inquisitor general, the priest in charge. He motioned for him to leave the room. The priest was too frightened to move; his feet were rooted to the cold stone floor. Lucky moved toward him. Still the man did not move. He simply stood and watched as Lucky grabbed hold of him and they disappeared before the throng. They stepped out of the portal into a rat-infested dungeon, the same one that his archenemy, Vlad the Impaler, had used on his subjects.

  “Do you like it here, priest?” Lucky asked. The priest’s eyes opened wide. He panned the room, eyeing pathetically undernourished prisoners, listening to their wails of pain and loneliness.

  “No?” Lucky asked. “Well how about here?” and they stepped out and onto the construction site of the great pyramid. “Would you like to stay here and help them build the great pyramid? Wait a minute; I have a place you might like.” In another second, they were among the dinosaurs. “How about here?” The priest hung his head.

  “No, please take me back,” he finally managed to say. “I will release the woman and child.”

  “You don’t have the power to release anyone. I alone have that power. But I’ll take you back, if you promise not to harm anyone else, ever again.” The priest nodded his agreement.

  The two men reappeared inside the inquisition chamber, much to the surprise of everyone. Lucky turned to the spectators.

  “Everyone leave this building now. Get out now, and be fast about it.” The spectators fled the building as if it were on fire. The guards, who normally stood fast, waiting for their orders from the priests, fled too, running ahead of the priests. Lucky waited for the room to clear. It was now just the three of them – Krystina, the baby, and Lucky.

  “Stay here for a moment and wait for me,” he said as he left the room and walked toward the door. Once outside, h
e took a stance up high on the top step, and announced, “If anyone dares to harm the royal family again, I will come back here and I’ll to destroy your entire village.” He looked around at their frightened faces to make sure that his message was understood, and then he stepped back inside the makeshift courtroom. He told the princess to hold onto his arm and not to let go. Lucky waited for the princess’ reassuring embrace on his arm, then he removed three hand grenades from his pouch, pulled the pins out, and tossed them in three different corners of the building. At that second, he pushed Krystina and the baby into the portal, missing the danger of the detonating grenades by seconds.

  The crowd heard the thunderous roar as the grenades discharged, and they watched as part of the structure blew to pieces, its walls collapsing on that one side only. Other than that, the building stood. It was when they entered the edifice that they could see the total destruction caused by the wizard. The men-at-arms searched for the bodies they were sure they would find, but the priests knew otherwise. They were gone and they weren’t about to pursue them. The inquisitor general, after walking among the rubble and viewing the devastation, nodded. “It was foretold that a great wizard would someday appear in this land and become the great protector of the king . . . and his name was MERLIN.”

  THE TIME PORTAL 5

  THE NAZI

  CHAPTER 1

  GERMANY: BLACK FOREST

  Castle of billionaire industrialist, Adolph Meuller

  Mueller was born in Berlin on May 10, 1935, during the time the Germans were preparing to conquer the world. After France surrendered to Germany, Hitler insisted on signing the peace treaty in the same railroad car in which the Czar had signed Germany’s surrender after they were defeated, in the First World War.

  His mother, Anjanette, was Polish, and his father, Adolph, was German, and he owned a small but successful foundry in Berlin. Adolph was a practical man and he assumed that since Germany was presently occupying a number of smaller countries, including the above-mentioned France, it was logical that as Germany expanded its newly acquired territories and, like the Romans discovered in their march to world conquest, it would require far more men to occupy them. The problem was that if no one intervened on his behalf, he would shortly be called upon to serve the Fatherland, and if that were to happen, what would become of his wife and son?

  Adolph Mueller Sr. loved Hitler; he was proud of Hitler for bringing Germany out of the economic despair caused by their defeat in the First World War. He felt that Hitler was directly responsible for Germany’s economic recovery, and that he alone gave the German people back the pride they once had, but had lost after Germany’s defeat in World War 1. Knowing that the draft was inevitable, Mueller tried to put a little money aside from his earnings for his family. He knew that if something didn’t happen to prevent his being drafted, then sooner, rather than later, he would be forced to become a part of Hitler’s army. Being a realist, he knew that the money he put aside for his family wouldn’t last long, and he worried about their welfare. He knew that his wife wouldn’t be able to support herself and their young son with the money he had saved and, to make matters worse, he knew that after he left, there would be no one to run the forge.

  He couldn’t sleep nights, knowing that when he left for the army, inflation would quickly eat up his money. So he constantly thought of ways to keep himself out of the army. Then one day, he had an idea. It was risky, but it was worth taking a chance on.

  One of his neighbors, Otto Schultz, was in charge of the army induction center in Berlin, and the two men always attended the weekly party meetings together. One night, after one such meeting, they stopped for a cup of coffee at a small cafe near the meeting hall. Mueller’s eyes locked on Otto’s as he picked up his cup to take a sip of the hot coffee. He hadn’t intended to speak of having to join the army, or of his concerns of leaving his family with no means of support, but the words just spilled out . . . and it was too late to take them back. So he plunged ahead and told Otto that he needed a favor. As a friend and party member, he wanted Otto to get him a deferment. The man Mueller thought was his friend shook his head and looked at him suspiciously. Adolph realized too late that it was a mistake to think that Otto was his friend, but it was also too late to make excuses, so he waited hopefully for Otto to answer him. He was disappointed when Otto answered him with a sneer. “Impossible,” he said loudly. “Everyone must do their duty to the fatherland - and you must do yours. This is a glorious time for Germany. Soon we will rule the world.” Adolph needed a deferment and, in his desperation, he added to his problems by offering Otto money as an incentive to get him a deferment.

  These were the times when neighbors were encouraged by the Nazis to inform on neighbors, and friends on friends. So it was no surprise when, later that evening, Otto reported his friend Adolph to Heinrich Himmler, the man in charge of the feared Gestapo. After hearing what Otto had to say, Himmler ordered his secretary to bring him Adolph Mueller’s record. She looked through her files, found it, and handed it to him. Himmler read the file and was satisfied to see that Mueller was a loyal party man who attended every meeting. He understood that many men were concerned about leaving their families and he decided that he wasn’t going to do anything other than give Adolph a good tongue-lashing. After all, this Mueller was a German businessman and a loyal Nazi, and not a Jew. So although Himmler wasn’t in the mood and didn’t want to be bothered, but because of his party affiliation, he agreed to accompany Schultz to Mueller’s home.

  When they arrived, Otto rang the doorbell. Mueller answered the door and saw that it was his neighbor, Otto, and his heart skipped a beat as he thought that Otto might have changed his mind about the deferment. But his hopes were quickly dashed when Himmler stepped out of the shadows and introduced himself. Mueller’s knees almost betrayed him when he saw Himmler, the head of the Gestapo, standing there. He was so frightened that he had to hold onto the door for support.

  Himmler looked into his eyes for a long moment, more to see if he could catch a lie hidden somewhere behind those eyes, but he could see none. Satisfied that this man was no threat, he said that he would like to come in and have a few words alone with him. Mueller had no choice but to agree. “Yes, please come in; we can talk in the kitchen.” He didn’t invite Otto in, but nevertheless, although uninvited, Otto followed Himmler into the house.

  “Some coffee, Herr Himmler, or maybe a little schnapps?” Mueller was annoyed at Otto for bringing Himmler to his home and didn’t offer him coffee, but Otto was enjoying Mueller’s discomfort.

  “Coffee would be fine for me also. I like it black,” Schultz said.

  Himmler tilted his head and looked at Otto sideways, annoyed that just as he was about to question Mueller, this little man had the nerve to interrupt him. “Coffee with cream and one sugar would be fine,” Himmler said, still annoyed at Otto, which Mueller couldn’t help but notice. The look on Otto’s face almost caused Mueller to laugh, which of course would be the worst thing he could have possibly done. Mueller, trying hard to keep from laughing, called out to his wife, who was in the living room, mending her son’s socks.

  “Yes, what is it, Adolph?”

  “We have guests. Would you be so kind as to make us a pot of coffee?”

  “Yes. I’ll be right there.” She put down the sock, her needle and thread, and, a few moments later, Anjanette walked into the kitchen. She took the coffee pot off of the stove and washed it in the sink, and then she prepared the coffee and lit the stove. Only then, did she turn to say hello to their guests.

  When she first walked in the room, Himmler was stunned. He took one look at the blond beauty with the loose strand of hair hanging over one eye and a figure to die for. He had expected an overweight, dowdy German housewife, but she was so pretty that he couldn’t take his eyes off of her, and while she was preparing the coffee, he took in her beauty . . . the sway of her hips while she cleaned the pot and the curves of her body as she put the pot on the stove. He was capti
vated with her; he wanted her . . . and what Himmler wanted, he got. In that instant, Adolph Mueller was a dead man walking. He would shortly be assigned to fight somewhere on the Russian front where Himmler would see to it that he would never return.

  As soon as he got back to his office, Himmler arranged for Mueller to be inducted into the army. Shortly after that meeting in Mueller’s kitchen, Adolph Sr. kissed his wife and son goodbye for the last time. Little Adolph was nine years old when his father left home in 1944 to go and fight in the war, and Himmler used his influence to make sure Mueller never returned from the war.

  Now that Mueller was out of the picture, Himmler visited Anjanette Mueller often, always with a feigned look of support. He professed to feeling guilty for being powerless to prevent her husband from having to leave for the war, but to show her that he understood her situation, he told her not to worry about necessities, assuring her that she would lack for nothing. Meanwhile, little Adolph listened to all of the lies he told her and he believed them. He adored Himmler and, whenever he visited them, Adolph Jr. would never leave his side.

  The day Himmler came to the house to tell Anjanette that husband had been killed, he wore a hound dog look of feigned sadness on his face, telling Anjanette how sorry he was for her loss. She believed him and, as the days went on, she became dependent on Himmler for everything. She was his now, and he knew it.

  A month later, Anjanette was sleeping with him. Himmler was a psychotic murderous thug who lived alone, with no wife and no children, but at times, even an animal craves a little affection. So it was only natural for Himmler to look forward to the adulation Adolph Jr. lavished on him. To the boy, Himmler was the embodiment of masculinity. To everyone’s surprise, Himmler, who never showed emotion, came to look upon Adolph Jr as a surrogate son and he, his surrogate father. Himmler returned the boy’s love with affection, which was an unusual emotion for the man who had ordered the execution of tens of thousands of German Jews.