The Third Reich:Shadows of the Golden Eagle

Chapter 157: The Plan of a Monster

Double drop today. These two Chapters are inseparable. Buckle up.

-------------------------------------

The evening sun hung low over Washington on the 7th of May.

"You and your coffer, something about the two of you creeps me out every time," Gimpel said. He leaned against the wall next to a large painting.

Werner stood in front of him, adjusted his suit, and made an overly serious face. "Is it me or the coffer?"

"Both of you," Gimpel said with a slight grin. He patted Werner on the shoulder.

Werner’s expression softened into a smile. "Well, you should remember what I told you when I first mentioned it," he joked.

Gimpel leaned closer to Werner’s ear, his voice dropping. "Freaks or whatever, you two will win us the war that is coming." He kept the faint grin on his face. "I heard the President has decided to join in exactly one month, just before the invasion."

Werner nodded, looking pleased. "It was time. We can’t let Paul run wild anymore."

The sound of a door opening cut them off. A female secretary stepped out and gestured toward the room. "The President is ready to see you now."

Werner and Gimpel looked down the hallway as if searching for someone.

"Where is James?" Werner hissed, looking annoyed.

Gimpel just shrugged and shook his head as they both walked into the Oval Office.

"Gentlemen," President Franklin D. Roosevelt said loudly. He was already standing when they entered.

Werner entered. A sense of awe hit him. The Oval Office felt different in person, heavier, as if the furniture itself carried the weight of every major decision made for the country.

Roosevelt gestured toward the chairs. "Please, sit."

Werner and Gimpel sat.

"I trust your journey here was without incident," Roosevelt said, settling into his chair.

"Uneventful, Mr. President," Werner replied with a nod.

There was a short pause. Gimpel narrowed his eyes, watching Roosevelt carefully.

"Good," Roosevelt said. He cleared his throat, briefly struggling with Werner’s surname. "Well, first of all, Mr. Lehmann. Thank you for your service. Your intelligence has been vital for the aid we have given the British. Countless lives have been saved because of the messages you decoded. And those Germans still suspect nothing."

Roosevelt folded his hands, clearly in a good mood. Werner nodded. "I am honored to be here, Mr. President, and to help end this war quickly."

They spoke for a while about operational details and strategic assessments. The conversation stretched on, measured and precise, until it began to feel almost endless.

Finally, Roosevelt’s gaze drifted toward the coffer beside Werner.

"I am quite curious. Thank you for bringing the machine. I wanted to see it for myself," Roosevelt said.

Werner lifted the heavy coffer onto the desk. He entered the code into the lock with practiced movements.

Click.

"Here it is," Werner whispered, stepping back so Roosevelt could see the Enigma.

Roosevelt studied it for a moment, then looked at Gimpel and gave a small nod.

Gimpel cleared his throat. "Friedrich, why don’t you go find James. You understand."

He gave another reassuring nod.

Werner looked at them with disappointment. It was clear he still was not fully trusted by the President.

"Don’t take it as an offense, Mr. Lehmann. See it as motivation," Roosevelt said. He shook Werner’s hand, and Werner slowly walked out of the room.

The door closed behind him. A man in a black suit followed him into the hall.

"A lapdog, really?" Werner asked. The man did not answer.

Werner walked through the building, scanning for any sign of a wheelchair, but James was nowhere to be seen. He stopped at a door marked lavatory. "If you’ll excuse me," Werner said, giving the agent a stern look.

Back in the Oval Office

The Enigma machine sat on the side of the table. Gimpel looked Roosevelt in the eye.

"So everything suggests the 28th of April," Roosevelt muttered.

"Indeed," Gimpel said, adjusting his tie. "Our intelligence and the intercepted Enigma traffic all point to that timeframe. We cannot be entirely certain, of course."

"I understand. Either way, Operation Eclipse will proceed before that. Understood, Gimpel?"

Gimpel hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding. Operation Eclipse was the plan to force the United States into the war. Since public opinion was still against it, they had decided on something far more extreme. They would destroy their own ships and make it appear as a German attack. The crews would not know. No one would know.

"It will be done," Gimpel said. The evening light faded through the tall windows.

"Then I will inform Churchill that help is on the way."

Gimpel looked out of the window. Something was bothering him. He could not name it, but it lingered at the edge of his thoughts.

In the Bathroom

Werner turned on the tap. He held his hands under the water and looked into the mirror. His face remained neutral as he washed, methodical, almost detached.

For a second, it happened.

A distorted, horrifying version of his reflection appeared in the water, like something watching from beneath the surface.

Then the image was gone.

He looked up again. His expression had not changed.

He reached for the soap and began scrubbing his hands harder.

Faster.

More forcefully.

Again and again until he stopped abruptly.

A small red wound had opened on his index finger. He stared at it for a moment, then back into the mirror. Sweat clung to his forehead, his hair slightly disheveled.

"Are you okay?"

The voice was familiar. James rolled out of the last stall in a wheelchair. He looked exhausted, with dark rings under his eyes.

"Where have you been?" Werner asked, turning around, while wiping the blood with a towel.

James stopped a few feet away. He didn’t offer a hand or a kind word. Instead, his eyes narrowed as he studied Werner’s trembling fingers. "Do the nightmares still come, Werner? About the hunt? About the comrade you had to leave behind in the mud just to get here?"

Werner didn’t look up. He kept staring at the red smear on the white towel.

"I saw the intelligence reports," James continued, his voice hardening. "You shouldn’t have survived that..."

Yet he suddenly stopped, changing the topic.

"Gimpel and Roosevelt are planning a fake German attack to bring the United States into the war. Operation Eclipse. I can’t stand by that," He said.

Werner shook his head slowly. "And now what? Your moral compass told you to come to me first?"

James moved closer, his wheels clicking softly against the tiled floor. "We have to stop them. Will you help me, Werner?"

Werner exhaled, a long and shaky breath that seemed to pull the remaining warmth from his chest. He looked at the red smear on his finger, then back at James.

"I will think about it." Werner answered detached.

James let out a breath he had been holding, a faint smile touching his lips. "You are a good man, Werner." He began to turn his wheelchair toward the door, already planning their next move.

"Hah."Werner breathed out loudly, almost scoffing.

In the sink, another drop of blood hit the porcelain.

Finnaly he snapped.

"The hunt," Werner suddenly said.

His voice was a low rasp that stopped James in his tracks. James turned his head slightly.

"What?"

"The hunt was the only thing not staged," Werner whispered. "It had to look real. Paul needed you to see my fear so you would believe my lies."

Silence.

James opened his mouth, only to close it again.

The air in the bathroom grew heavy. The version of Werner from the mirror, the distorted thing beneath the surface, seemed to settle into his skin.

"A GOOD MAN?!! A GOOD MAN, JAMES?"

Werner suddenly shouted.

His facade exploded into a thousand pieces.

He began to laugh.

It started as a low tremor in his chest before breaking into something jagged and violent. It was not the sound of a man who had won, but the sound of a man who had finally collapsed under the weight of a thousand secrets. He slammed his hand against the sink, his shoulders shaking.

He straightened up. A thin, joyless smile remained on his face.

"You still believe in good men," Werner raised his voice. "Even after everything I have done. Even after everything I have allowed.

A pause. James’ breathing becoming ragged.

"Everything...Everything was a lie."

A single tear fell down from Werner’s cheek.

He looked at his reflection, but he did not see himself. He saw a tool that had been used until it was blunt.

"Why?"James’ lips parted for a single moment.

"You think I betrayed Germany because I grew a conscience?"

"No."

"You think I escaped and found you by luck?" Werner stepped toward the wheelchair.

"No."

"No, James. I did exactly what I was told. I followed the script. Once again. I am the reason the Americans are decoding garbage. Every message, every bit of intel you think is saving the world, is just a line in his play."

James’s face went completely pale. His trembling hands gripped the armrests of his chair.

"Impossible."He said.

"But...But...you hate him... I can...I can hear it in your voice...I CAN HEAR IT GODDAMIT!"James erupted.

"Yes," Werner shouted, his voice cracking. "I hate him. And I still did it. I betrayed my soul because I am human. Because I was afraid. Because I wanted to believe his promises even when I knew they were false. Because he isn’t human anymore."

He moved closer until he was towering over James. The sadness in his eyes was replaced by a terrifying, cold clarity.

"I look at Paul and I see a monster," Werner said. "Then I look at you, James, and I see the same thing."

"You both have these visions."

"You both play God with the lives of people who are blind to the future."

"You think you are the cure, but you are the disease!"

James tried to back the wheelchair away, but Werner’s hand was already on the handle, locking him in place.

"The world deserves nihility from us," Werner whispered. "It deserves to be blind again. It deserves to not know what happens tomorrow."

"You-"James began.

Werner interrupted him.

"I have decided..."

His grip tightened.

"I am going to end this," Werner said clenching his teeth.

The Oval Office

Gimpel stared at the floor, the echoes of their earlier conversation clawing at the back of his mind.

Werner’s joke did not leave his mind.

"Well, you should remember what I told you when I first mentioned it."

"What did you say?" Gimpel whispered out loudly.

He looked at the President, who remained standing with his back to the room, watching the low evening sun through the tall windows. Gimpel’s mind raced back to that dark, cramped interrogation room, the first time Werner had ever mentioned the coffer.

"When we tried to open it forcefully. We asked him..."

Suddenly, the phrase snapped into focus, cold and clear.

"And what if we just break it open?" They had asked back then.

Werner’s answer had been simple: "Then... you die."

Gimpel’s eyes went wide. A jolt of pure adrenaline hit him, and he lunged from his chair.

"Wait—!"

BOOM.

...

Darkness.