Legacy by David Lynn Golemon Page A

alive. Imagine my consternation seeing him driving a car at fifty miles an hour and shooting at me.”
    “I imagine you almost shit your pants. I mean, I would if I knew Lee was coming for me.” Ben used the loudness of his voice to edge closer. He sped across to the next closest crate and hunkered down.
    “Ben … may I call you Ben?” Goetz raised his head for a split second and then quickly ducked back and in that split second Hamilton saw that the right lens was cracked on Goetz’s wire-framed glasses. One advantage of this was that the German would have a hard time seeing. Lee had taught him to quickly count down the advantages and disadvantages of any situation he found himself in.
    “Sure, why not be on a first-name basis with the man who’s going to kill you?” Hamilton said, looking away from Goetz so as not to give him his exact location.
    “Those are hasty words, Ben, especially for what I have to offer the United States government.”
    Hamilton resisted the urge to speak again. This time he rose up as high as he dared and peeked over the large crate. He brought up the machine gun and waited for Goetz to show himself one last time.
    “It’s a miracle, Ben. In these crates I have a miracle. Your government would be happy to have what I possess, young man.”
    Hamilton knew Goetz wasn’t going to risk another peek above his own crate. The young agent knew he would have to flush the general out. He aimed at a tight spot where he guessed Goetz would appear.
    “What one man possesses one minute, another possesses the next,” he said. “Whatever is here, General, we’ll soon know all about it.”
    “That is true. But what comes with the crates, Ben, is five years of research by the best German minds. It will save you years upon years of study to come half as close as we in understanding what it is we truly have—as I said, a miracle.”
    “All right,” he said as he aimed still tighter on the area he thought the voice was coming from. “I’ll bite. What have you got, and why in hell should we care about it?”
    “Because every human being on this planet wants to know, needs to know … and I dare say, would kill to know. Just a minute’s truce, Ben, that’s all I ask. Then I’ll throw my hands in the air and I’ll become your prisoner.”
    Hamilton thought a moment. The man was small and overweight and this was probably the only time he had ever fired his weapon against a real man and not at some helpless woman or child.
    “Here is my only weapon,” Goetz said and then slid out onto the wooden floor a small caliber pistol. “There, Ben, I’m unarmed. Now I will stand and I will show you a sight you will tell your grandchildren about.”
    Ben watched as Goetz stood up. He had his hands raised. His left was empty and in the right he carried the large satchel. Hamilton stood but kept the submachine gun pointed at Goetz.
    “The satchel, drop it,” Ben said as calmly as he could.
    Goetz slowly lowered the leather case to the top of the crate he had been using for cover. He then raised the now empty hand over his head. “Perhaps you will be so kind as to lower that weapon, my young friend?”
    “I feel better with it pointed right between your eyes, Herr General.” Ben stepped out from his cover.
    “Since the Führer has left the war effort, I think it a good time to surrender,” Goetz said as he stepped further into the center of the car and slowly started to lower his hands. The car swayed as it went around a bend, throwing Ben’s weight to his left. Goetz noticed that no matter how jumbled the ride, the submachine gun never left its mark.
    “I’m sorry, General, but my company doesn’t take prisoners. We keep score in other ways.”
    Goetz saw Hamilton in a light that made him feel very uncomfortable. “Young man, your organization and mine can do business in this matter. I am willing to offer these artifacts,” he said with a gesture, which elicited a menacing forward thrust of