January 15, 1945

0600 Hours

Captain Lorens’ Private Quarters

We stood regarding the thing strapped to the chair in front of the fireplace. He looked at us, bewildered. The fire warmed us all and seemed to raise the nervous energy of the ghoul. It had taken all night, but slowly, as the fire worked its wonder, it had begun to move. I returned to my chair by the fireplace and focused my attention on the black bird held gently in my hands. I worked the pen knife slowly and whispered to him softly and after a time the painted PW emblem was no longer visible. I held him to my gaze as his head darted about the room. I walked to the window, and opening it, spoke to him a final time. He spread his wings and took flight.

“Live free, my friend.”

The door opened and Churchill stepped forward. von Boch, now bound, wailed at his sight. “It’s like staring Faust in the eyes”, he whispered. Churchill regarded the monster for a moment. Cigar in left hand, his right akimbo, he leaned one foot against the soldiers’ chair and leaned in towards him. The zombie opened his mouth as if to take upon a drink. “Hello, Doctor von Boch. We meet again.”

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“You, you know him?” I pointed at the thing that was von Boch and stared at the Prime Minister with an accusatory gaze.

“Oh yes. We…” he turned towards his assistant, a mysterious man with a dark turncoat and a fedora hat, “We’ve known Herr Zimmer. Or the good Doctor shall I say, from some time.”

The stranger spoke. “I believe it was…” he thought for a moment. “Cairo when we first met.”  No accent. No expression. Simply a stranger.

The Prime Minister spoke again. “Yes, Dr. Pierce, when you first came to our attention, courtesy of my associate here.” He turned towards the stranger, who bowed slightly towards Pierce. “You were babbling incoherently about Herr Zimmer and your tomb of Pu-Abi.” Naturally, we regarded this with great interest. He smiled at Pierce now. “And you’ve allowed us to uncover some tremendous finds. And you led us to him.” He turned to von Boch now. A look of pity crossed his face. “Oh, were that I would live a thousand years, I never would have thought tonight would end like this. My good Doctor, would you have known that you would walk the earth like a solemn golem you would have never come back and tried to strike such bargain now, would you?” The Prime Minister regarded his words for a moment as we all stood silent.

“No golem, though. No. This,” he said, and he pointed a pudgy finger towards the zombie’s nose, “This is simply a madman disguised in an Ober…Obersturm…Obersturmbann…”