Tesla, Jason Walker [reading cloud ebooks TXT] 📗

when he realized that nobody was actually free under their various systems.

“There are even rumours about ol’ Nikola having faked his death,” Bill had told him. “The conspiracy theory is that he went to work on things that interested him with Marconi, his former rival over their discoveries and applications of the radio wave transmission technologies. And the other possibility was that German agents had gotten to him in 1943. He almost most certainly didn’t die of natural causes, but then again, I’ve heard that the powers at be went back in time and took a younger version of Tesla down . . .”

All of that conversation with Bill made Darren even more interested in the files that he’d found. He clicked through a few of the folders and saw faces and biographies, eventually landing on a file that detailed how the pro-Nazi business tycoons monitored Nikola Tesla and all the experiments he was doing through the eyes of George Scherff Senior. According to the files, George Scherff Senior had worked out of a building owned by the Rockefellers in New York City, but George Scherff Junior had also been snooping around Tesla’s labs because Hitler’s people trained him in Germany to be a spy specifically for the task of using his skills around Tesla’s lab. It was of great importance to the Reich that the secrets that they knew because of Tesla’s ideas weren’t shared with the livestock occupying earth. In their view, anyone beyond their own group was a slave—simple as that.

The file in question detailed how there were records showing that 17 Battery Place was the Whitehall Building, and it happened to be owned by a man named Frank Rockefeller. He owned many of the companies that had offices in the building, including the ILA—that was to say, including the International Longshoremen’s Association. Several other big-name companies had offices there as well, many of them in the oil, mining, and chemical production businesses.

The document focused on one specific company: Buckeye Steel Castings. This company manufactured automatic couplers and chassis for railroad cars. The general manager was Samuel P. Bush. That name had been highlighted in all of the files. It was clearly one that was meant to be focused on.

Darren quickly lost himself in the document. Time passed, unnoticed. After an hour went by, he was aware that he was now the only person that was using a computer, but he wanted to read a little bit more before he left.

The document went on to say that the association Samuel P. Bush had with the Rockefellers and his subsequent position as Director of the War Industries Board, had no doubt opened him up to contracts with Remington Arms.

Several of the words in the document had reference numbers attached to them. They were, no doubt, referencing other files on the USB drive. Darren knew that there would be time to read through all of the files later. Already, the librarian was starting to give him the stink eye for how close it was getting to closing.

Darren tried to read faster. There was just so much to get through!

The file wrapped back around to George Scherff Senior. This time, it spoke about how he’d been Nikola Tesla’s accountant and business affairs manager. Scherrf Senior had also worked at the Union Sulfur Company. Normally, this association wouldn’t have set off alarms, considering the state of Tesla’s affairs. But Scherrf had his orders and had done a great job for the Third Reich.

People often held more than one job. But the writer of the document clearly found it odd. Darren was certain that if he kept reading, it would make more sense.

The librarian cleared her throat. “The library will be closing soon.”

“Right,” said Darren. He stood up jerkily and began printing off the remainder of the file he had been reading—and two other files. He made sure that he was completely logged off the computer, collected his ninety-three pages of information, and bid the librarian goodnight after making a twenty-dollar donation in the donation box at the front desk.

Darren returned to his motel room. He made sure to double-check the doors and windows. Nothing had been disturbed. He settled in to read over the remainder of the first file and was surprised to find that the main focus was on George Scherff Senior because the man had changed his name to Prescott Bush!

Whoever had been keeping tabs on these problems had been thorough.

The document went on to talk about how Prescott Bush had supported the Nazis and sent them money. He was arrested and charged for doing so. The Bush dynasty continued on, however, and—Darren’s breath caught in his throat.

His son had been the head of the CIA during the Vietnam era. That was George Herbert Walker Bush. And he had become the US president! That meant that a member of the Fourth Reich had made it into the White House! “Holy fuck,” he said to himself as he scrubbed at his eyes, which were irritated and dry after all that reading. They were burning from lack of sleep too.

He pushed on though and kept reading for another half hour before giving up. It was starting to look like the exploding barracks on Diego Garcia had been an attempt to take out somebody who had gathered too much information, and Darren had most likely discovered one of their backup drives. Eventually, though, he put the papers on the bedside table and focused on sleep. His mind was way too busy at the moment, and he needed to slow it down. He started doing some deep breathing exercises.

Darren woke up at 8 a.m. He staggered upright, scrubbing at his face, and went to the bathroom. When he came out a few minutes later, he noticed that some of the papers had fallen onto the floor, leaving them out of order because they didn’t have page numbers on them. He did his best to put them into the right sequence again and then placed them on top of the table. He would be meeting someone at a nearby bus stop to get the information for his next job, and had to get ready to leave for his rendezvous at 8:25. He got back in the shower and turned it on cold to get his adrenaline going.

It was hard to shut off his mind. Darren couldn’t stop thinking about what he had learned the night before. According to those files, Tesla had given ideas to the Germans before the war. He had also been involved in something called the P2 project, which Werner Von Braun had also worked on. They had worked together in Los Alamos, New Mexico, from 1936 up until Von Braun had flown back to Germany.

After Von Braun got back to Europe in 1937, he was put into the SS, in a special group known as the Ahnenerbe unit. It was a unit that was given the task of searching all over the earth for secrets and legends, in order to re-engineer super weapons that would help the third Reich win the war and enable a thousand years of Aryan rule. Anyone in this unit was considered to be a member of the Order of the Black Sun, which was one of Himmler’s most closely guarded secrets.

Whoever had owned that watch must have been planning on becoming a whistleblower, thought Darren as he showered. There was only one reason for someone to have a drive with so much information on it. As he looked over at one of the pages, he saw photocopied handwriting. It was a letter, written to somebody that the author had cared about. Whoever this person was had enough security clearance to have access to a lot of things that were above Darren’s paygrade.

The information in the letter mentioned a location where the stash was. “A stash of what?” he asked himself. It was in a location in New York State, and the letter said that it held a great deal of original technological importance and that whoever had access to this letter should seek out what was located underground in a missile silo on the outskirts of Lewis, New York.

A short while later, Darren was fully dressed. He cleaned up the room and then walked out the door. As he left to meet his contact, he started to think about what kind of stuff he’d find if he could locate that deactivated missile complex in New York State.