Robert Ludlum – The Sigma Protocol

Strasser shifted from one foot to another. “I have to sit down,” he

wheezed. He moved slowly down the hallway.

They followed him down the hall, to a large, ornate, book-lined room. It

was a library, a two-story atrium with walls and shelves of burnished

mahogany.

“You live in hiding,” Anna said. “Because you’re a war criminal.”

“I am no war criminal!” Strasser hissed. “I’m as innocent as a baby.”

Anna smiled. “If you aren’t a war criminal,” she replied, “why are you

hiding?”

He faltered, but only for a moment. “Here it has become fashionable to

expel former Nazis. And yes, I was a member of the National Socialist

party. Argentina signs agreements with Israel and Germany and America

they want to change their image. Now they only care what America

thinks. They’d expel me just to make the American President smile. And

you know, here in Buenos Aires, tracking down Nazis is a business! For

some journalists it’s a full-time job, how they make their living! But

I was never a Hitler loyalist. Hitler was a ruinous madman that was

clear early in the war. He would be the destruction of all of us. Men

like me knew that other accommodations had to be reached. My people

sought to kill the man before he could do further damage to our

industrial capacities. And our projections were correct. By the war’s

end, America had three-quarters of the world’s invested capital, and

two-thirds of the world’s industrial capacity.” He paused, smiled. “The

man was simply bad for business.”

“If you’d turned against Hitler, why are you still protected by the

Kamaradenwerk?” Ben asked.

“Illiterate thugs,” Strasser scoffed. “They are as ignorant of history

as the avengers they seek to thwart.”

“Why did you go out of town?” Anna interrupted.

“I was staying at an estancia in Patagonia owned by my wife’s family. My

late wife’s family. At the foot of the Andes, in Rio Negro province. A

cattle and sheep ranch, but very luxurious.”

“Do you go there regularly?”

“This is the first time I go there. My wife died last year and … Why

do you ask these things?”

“That’s why they couldn’t find you to kill you,” Anna said.

“Kill me … But who is trying to kill me?”

Ben looked at Anna, urging her to continue speaking.

She replied, “The company.”

“The company?”

“Sigma.”

She was bluffing, Ben knew, but she did it with great conviction.

Chardin’s words came to his mind, unbidden. The Western world, and much

of the rest, would respond to its ministrations, and it would accept the

cover stories that accompanied them.

Now Strasser was brooding. “The new leadership. Yes, that is it. Ah,

yes.” His raisin eyes gleamed.

“What is the ‘new leadership’?” Ben prompted.

“Yes, of course,” Strasser went on as if he hadn’t heard Ben. “They are

afraid I know things.”

“Who?” Ben shouted.

Strasser looked up at him, startled. “I helped them set it up. Alford

Kittredge, Siebert, Aldridge, Holleran, Conover–all those crowned heads

of corporate empires. They had contempt for me, but they needed me,

didn’t they? They needed my contacts high up in the German government.

If the venture wasn’t properly multinational, it had no hope of

succeeding. I had the trust of the men at the very top. They knew I

had done things for them that forever placed me beyond the pale of

ordinary humanity. They knew I had made that ultimate sacrifice for

them. I was a go-between trusted by all sides. And now that trust has

been betrayed, exposed for the charade it always was. Now it has become

clear that they were using me for their own ends.”

“You talked about the new leaders–is Jurgen Lenz one of them?” Anna

asked urgently. “Lenz’s son?”

“I have never met this Jurgen Lenz. I didn’t know Lenz had a son, but

then I wasn’t an intimate of his.”

“But you were both scientists,” Ben said. “In fact, you invented

Zyklon-B, didn’t you?”

“I was one of a team that invented Zyklon-B,” he replied. He pulled at

his shabby blue bathrobe, adjusted it at the neck. “Now all the

apologists attack me for my role in this, but they do not consider how

elegant was this gas.”

“Elegant?” Ben repeated. For a second he thought he’d misheard.

Elegant. The man was loathsome.

“Before Zyklon-B, the soldiers had to shoot every prisoner,” Strasser

said. “Terrible bloodbaths. Gas was so clean and simple and elegant.

And you know, gassing the Jews actually spared them.”

Ben echoed: “Spared them.” Ben was sickened.

“Yes! There were so many deadly diseases that went around those camps,

they would have suffered much longer, much more painfully. Gassing them

was the most humanitarian option.”

Humanitarian. I’m looking in the face of evil, Ben thought. An old man

in a bathrobe uttering pieties.

“How nice,” Ben said.

“This is why we called it ‘special treatment.” ”

“Your euphemism for extermination.”

“If you wish.” He shrugged. “But you know, I didn’t hand-pick victims

for the gas chambers like Dr. Mengele or Dr. Lenz. They call Mengele

the Angel of Death, but Lenz was the real one. The real Angel of

Death.”

“But not you,” Ben said. “You were a scientist.”

Strasser sensed the sarcasm. “What do you know of science?” he spat.

“Are you a scientist? Do you have any idea how far ahead of the rest of

the world we Nazi scientists were? Do you have any idea?” He spoke in

a high tremulous voice. Spittle formed at the corners of his mouth.

“They criticize Mengele’s twin studies, yet his findings are still cited

by the world’s leading geneticists! The Dachau experiments in freezing

human beings those data are still used! What they learned at

Ravensbruck about what happens to the female menstrual cycle under

stress when the women learned they were about to be executed

scientifically this was a breakthrough! Or Dr. Lenz’s experiments on

aging. The famine experiments on Soviet prisoners of war, the limb

transplants I could go on and on. Maybe it’s not polite to talk about

it, but you still use our science. You’d rather not think about how the

experiments were done, but don’t you realize that one of the main

reasons we were so advanced was precisely because we were able to

experiment on live human beings?”

Strasser’s creased face had gotten even paler as he spoke, and now it

was chalk-white. He had grown short of breath. “You Americans are

disgusted by how we did our research, but you use fetal tissue from

abortions for your transplants, yes? This is acceptable?”

Anna was pacing back and forth. “Ben, don’t debate with this monster.”

But Strasser would not stop. “Of course, there were many crackpot

ideas. Trying to make girls into boys and boys into girls.” He

chortled. “Or trying to create Siamese twins by connecting the vital

organs of the twins, a total failure, we lost many twins that way ”

“And after Sigma was established, did you continue to keep in touch with

Lenz?” Anna asked, cutting him off.

Strasser turned, seemingly perturbed at the interruption. “Certainly.

Lenz relied on me for my expertise and my contacts.”

“Meaning what?” Ben said.

The old man shrugged. “He said he was doing work, doing research

molecular research that would change the world.”

“Did he tell you what it was, this research?”

“No, not me. Lenz was a private, secretive man. But I remember he said

once, “You simply cannot fathom what I’m working on.” He asked me to

procure sophisticated electron microscopes, very hard to get in those

days. They had just been invented. Also, he wanted various chemicals.

Many things that were embargoed because of the war. He wanted

everything crated and sent to a private clinic he had set up in an old

Schloss, a castle, he had seized during the invasion of Austria.”

“Where in Austria?” Anna asked.

“The Austrian Alps.”

“Where in the Alps? What town or village, do you remember?” Anna

persisted.

“How can I possibly remember this, after all these years? Maybe he

never told me. I only remember Lenz called it ‘the Clockworks’ because

it had once been some kind of clock factory.”

A scientific project of Lenz’s. “A laboratory, then? Why?”

Strasser’s lips pulled down. He sighed reproachfully. “To continue the

research.”

“What research?” he said.

Strasser fell silent, as if lost in thought.

“Come on!” Anna said. “What research?”

“I don’t know. There was much important research that began during the

Reich. Gerhard Lenz’s work.”

Gerhard Lenz: what was it Sonnenfeld had said about Lenz’s horrific

experiments in the camps? Human experimentation … but what?

“And you don’t know the nature of this work?”

“Not today. Science and politics it was all the same to these people.

Sigma was, from the beginning, a means of tunneling support to certain

political organizations, subverting others. The men we’re talking about

these were already men of enormous influence in the world. Sigma showed

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