Chapter 7
The Colonel in Nachstadt
Bowing to prevent the swooshing blades of the helicopter from decapitating him, the Colonel dashed stiffly across the field outside the former hunting lodge on the edge of Nachtstadt. A tall, slender handsome blond man in his mid thirties met him half way knowing not to try to assist the older man's difficult walk. They smiled genuinely at each other, though with the Colonel's scar and stretched skin even a genuine smile had a creepy malevolence. The younger man took the burden of the suitcase from the older man's hand and walked beside him silently to the back entrance of the lodge. As soon as they entered they heard the brutal noise of the blades cutting through the air as the helicopter lifted away.
The Colonel's shiver surprised the younger man. He made no comment. He knew his father detested weakness. And it surprised him even more when the Colonel informed him of the reason for the weakness.
"So many ghosts," the Colonel muttered. "So many good men died here."
"Comrades?" asked his son. The Colonel nodded. "You never told me."
"I didn't want to deter you from purchasing the old lodge. I agreed it would make a splendid headquarters and a comfortable residence, and the superstitious fools claiming it's haunted wouldn't have deterred you. That it...became a slaughterhouse and my comrades were the victims might have stopped you."
"The werewolves..."
The Colonel nodded.
"But how did they get in?"
"I'm not sure, but I'm betting it was one of the sluts, Heinrich, one of the local whores. She probably hid them in the wine cellar until they changed."
"She was one of them?"
"Probably."
"So you would have known her."
"I might have, but my injuries forced me to leave fairly early on in the campaign," the Colonel shrugged.
"Let me put your bag in the guest suite. There's coffee and schnapps in the kitchen. I guess you know where it is."
"Yes. Be quick. We have much to discuss, much to plan, much to get done."
"Yes sir," said his son with utter respect. Proud and arrogant, he only showed such unmitigated respect to one man in his life, his father. Unlike his half sister, Heinrich never ventured into the military and be forced to bow to higher ups. A keen, uncluttered mind combined with abundant confidence and an overwhelmingly attractive presence had made him unique in his training and the completion of his studies in chemistry, dominating the socially inept colleagues to take charge of research and the selling of results and then using his remarkable resume, encouraged by his father, to take over the R and D of the small vitamin company in Nachtstadt, "Fruit of the Gods," and turn it into a thriving venture through new products as well as vastly improved advertising and distribution until he became partners with the owner of the company who also had his hands in packaging and distributing other local products such as Wild Boar sausages, Pan.
While righteously proud of both his progeny, the Colonel considered his son his most successful project. When adolescent rebellion released its angry poison, the Colonel used that anger, molded it, and channeled it in the direction he required. He had been too late to do so with his daughter which resulted in choosing not to tell her her true relationship to him. She would have fought him like she fought her foster parents and blamed him for the shame wrought by her schoolmates about her bastard heritage and the intentionality of her Aryan birth.
The only real problem with his progeny in relationship to his scheme to harness the enzyme that transformed men to wolves and use it to make himself young and healthy and without the life long pain Wolf had wrought upon him and then to eradicate the world of these monsters was the ridiculous need to fall in love with a werewolf. Just like him, Heinrich and Maria grew up cold and heartless, Maria worst of all since at least he could see a spark of love in Heinrich's eyes for his father. Except when he informed Maria in his office above the Katzekeller that Wolf had found a mate, he saw jealousy. "Too late," he thought out loud before chugging down the schnapps and sipping his black coffee. "Wolf!" he snarled.
"What was that, sir?" said his son, startling him. Had he been that lost in thought to not hear his son enter the kitchen even with his remarkable hearing?
"I must be getting old," he thought and that thought made him shudder.
"Wolf," he snarled out loud and his son nodded.
"We'll get him," said Heinrich, pouring himself a cup of coffee and sitting at the kitchen table. He knew the obsession all too well. He had read Moby Dick as a teenager and realized the comparison of Ahab and his father. He rooted for the mad captain and hated the demise that resulted. Ahab had been stupid. His father was anything but.
"Anything new since we last talked?" asked the Colonel.
"No sir. We're waiting for..." They heard the front door rattle as a key unlocked it. When they heard the door close, Heinrich yelled, "In the kitchen!"
Despite the smug mask, Heinrich could see the tension in Pan's face. He could also see the fresh scar on his throat. Two women accompanied Pan into the kitchen; one a facsimile of Pan and Pan's pretty face looked startlingly beautiful on his sister. The other, a tawny light brunette beauty held hands with Pan, gently and fondly and reassuringly stroking his back.
Heinrich made introductions, "Pan, Bobbie, Ossie, this is my father."
Pan breathed in through his nose deeply and the scent troubled him. He smelled the taint.
"So Kat bested you," the Colonel grumbled at Pan.
