Freedom Fighters: The Fight Continues, Chapter 18: Heir Apparent

by Doc Quantum and Starsky Hutch 76

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Adam Weishaupt Hitler and his entourage were greeted at the door of Josef Mengele’s home in the Hamptons.

“It is good to see you, my prize pupil,” Mengele said, looking proudly at the young man who he’d given birth to in a laboratory almost two decades ago. “It has been far too long since we have had the time for one of our talks. But you must be famished. Come inside. My manservant has prepared a lavish meal for your arrival.”

“And your house guest?” said Adam.

“Ah, yes,” replied Mengele. “Raphael has been recovering from the recent treatments I have given him for his condition. He will be joining us as well. I hope this does not pose a problem?”

“No, not at all,” replied the young Deputy Fuhrer. “He may have fallen out of favor with my father, but he is still America’s most prominent member of the Nazi Party, despite his failures.”

“Many have tried to destroy the Freedom Fighters,” said Mengele. “But few have come as close as Raphael Van Zandt has.”

“Is he…?” Adam began.

“No, do not worry, he no longer harbors any threat to anyone — at least, not to anyone but his enemies,” Mengele said, grinning. “The Silver Ghost will soon rise like a phoenix once again, more effective than ever before. He is a changed man, you will see.”

“I am sure,” said Adam. “Herr Mengele, there is much I wish to discuss with you, especially in light of the news from Nuremberg.”

“We will have much time to discuss things later, young Fuhrer,” said the smiling Mengele, ushering him toward his spacious dining room. “The feast, however, cannot wait for us.”

Adam nodded and walked off to dinner.

***

The Unknown Soldier returned to his base of operations in Sweden once more, wearing a new face and bearing a new name. The mission had been a success, although it ended up being prolonged far too long for his liking.

The SS Ubermenschen would obviously have to be dealt with eventually, but that could wait until another day. They wouldn’t remain rank amateurs for long.

Hitler’s so-called new body posed a question for the Unknown Soldier as well. Could it be possible that his new virile body’s creation was connected somehow with the doctor who was responsible for his own unique abilities? It would certainly seem that way, if the news from the Nuremberg rally were at all true. He supposed he might have to return to Germany soon to find out for certain.

At least Uncle Sam and the others were all right. He was glad they were back on Earth-X. This world had far too few heroes, and with the current problems was a world that really needed more heroes than all the other Earths combined.

He’d been glad to see his sister again, though, in the recent Crisis. He wasn’t sure that he’d ever see Danette again after that Crisis to end all Crises, but he knew now that she was alive and well. And that was all that mattered.

Rod Reilly stepped into his sleeping quarters and threw himself down onto the bed. And he dreamed of a world in which his unique abilities were not needed.

***

Josef Mengele sat in the den of his home in the Hamptons enjoying an after-dinner cognac with his prized pupil. Decades after the Nazis had risen to power, he still looked young thanks to the arcane sciences at his command. In fact, he looked far stronger now than he did then. The fact that he was so well preserved while the Fuhrer had continued to deteriorate would have cost him his stature, if not for his charge sitting in the leather chair opposite him, staring at the fire.

In good conscience, Mengele could not preserve Hitler, since he considered him of inferior stock, lacking the proper Aryan qualities. But when Hitler found his health deteriorating, he ordered his top scientist at the time to create an heir for him possessing all of those qualities. Considering how successful he was, he wished he had instead helped preserve the health of the Fuhrer. Then that witch, Dr. Ulla Minerva, might not have risen as far as she had.

He chose the name Adam for the boy because he would be the father to the perfect Aryan race. Though Hitler preferred the Teutonic religion because he believed it more Aryan, he found the name appropriate. It suited his vanity to believe his son to be the father of the master race.

Mengele was placed in charge of the boy’s upringing, schooling him in military strategy, hand-to-hand combat, and academia — all of which the lad excelled in, as one genetically perfect would be expected to. Now that Adam was an adult, it was time for him to assume the head of the Reich, but thanks to that trollop scientist, Hitler now had a robust new body. That would not do at all.

“We have a problem,” Mengele told his pupil.

“I know,” Adam replied. “This Martian, though a formidable weapon, is far too unstable. We should have kept his Martian technology but exterminated him.”

Much to Adam’s shock, Mengele burst out laughing. “There is no Martian technology, I’m sorry to say. He’s as much an Earthling as you or I. In fact, I created him in a laboratory myself.”

“What?” Adam said, aghast.

“He was originally meant to not only be the ultimate weapon, but the ultimate propaganda. His snow-white skin and cobalt eyes are the ultimate Aryan symbol.”

“I thought I was the ultimate Aryan,” Adam said with a smirk.

“And so you are, my boy. Eventually I got a the idea to pass him off as a Martian from an American radio broadcast I heard years ago, where the narrator convinced the public that we were being invaded from Mars. We later shot the man for creating a panic, of course, but the sheer terror he caused never left my mind. I realized half our battle might be won if we could make such a panic work for us when we initiated our second strike, after the Crisis.”

“Brilliant!” Adam said with unfeigned admiration.

“Obviously, he wasn’t the problem I was referring to,” Mengele said. “I was referring to Dr. Minerva and your father.”

“My father is young and healthy once more, thanks to Ulla Minerva. How can that be a problem? Surely the Reich can benefit from the continued rule of Adolf Hitler.”

“If it truly is Adolf Hitler who now rules,” Mengele said. “I would not put it past her to have done something to make him her pawn.”

“If that is the case,” Adam said, peering over his cognac with a look in his eyes Mengele had seen many times in his father’s, “even Adolf Hitler himself is not above the well being of the Reich.”

“I was hoping you would say that,” Mengele replied, raising his glass in salute to his prized student and proudest achievement.

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