We'll Meet Again (Original Book)

|19| Past

Dachau Concentration Camp, January 26th, 1945

Of all places on this earth, why – why did he have to be there? Leonard focused on the sound of his footsteps. He focused on the incessant tap, tap, tapping of his black leather buckle shoes on the marble white floor. There were screams coming from every direction. Chilling screams came from every room – every door that happened to be open and he had to pass by, pretending that everything happening around him was normal.

There was no escape from this place. No one could get out. Some scientists were as much prisoners as the real prisoners, and for some others, that place was their safe haven – the only place where they could realise the atrocities that only the wickedest mind could fathom. Everybody had been so adamant about Germany winning the war. Leonard hoped that nothing of the sort was true. Last time he'd been outside this place, the Allied Forces were winning.

He stood outside a door. It was a wooden door and the name of the man he was about to face was carved on the front.

Dr Kurt Schmidt

All kinds of sick and twisted bestialities were conducted on poor, innocent people, and none of them made any scientifical sense. It was a torment for a Burgess to be there, unable to speak up. Freezing water experiments, blood coagulation experiments, high-altitude experiments - there were a million scientific errors in them all, but Leonard had no say in any of this.

He was there for one project, mediated by the man that he was about to talk to. Dr Kurt Schmidt was a Lieutenant, one of the very first ones to join the party back in 1933.

He was now the head director of Charles Bellisario's project.

Leonard walked in, finally mustering the courage to face the man who held his life in his hands. It was a middle-aged man with blonde, grey hair. He was in his Nazi uniform that gave out his rank. Leonard walked in. He wore his own suit and his lab-coat on top. The distinct blue eyes of a Burgess stared behind the thick lenses of his circular glasses.

Leonard delivered another report on Charles and the experiments they had conducted on him. Kurt skimmed through the papers Leonard had just placed on his desk, before he looked up at him.

"How come a Burgess like you has yet to discover how it works?"

Sometimes Leonard was amazed by the illiteracy of people who had earned their doctorates from European universities.

"I would have had far more rapid results if you'd let me take the subject back to the United States."

The old man laughed.

"Dr Burgess, I am fairly certain that if you've really dedicated your life on our research, you'll create all the Burgess technology you need from scratch. Fuhrer has already promised to provide you with everything you may need."

"That technology is something that humanity must discover for themselves. The Burgess Family cannot and will not share our technology," Leonard's fists clenched. He was going to provoke his own death with the things he said, but he did not control his tongue. "You can try and coax the knowledge out of me. You can torture and experiment on me if you want, but in the end, I will die, and you won't get anything from me, nor from any other Burgess out there."

"Calm down, Dr Burgess," Kurt sipped on his whiskey from a fat, heavy piece of glass that rested on his desk. "We ran all the experiments we needed on your son. Thanks to him, we know that there is no point in experimenting on a Burgess. As you said, we do not yet possess the technology to determine what makes your family special," the man stood up and walked around his desk to stand beside Leonard. "Even though, one of Fuhrer's dreams had forever been to add the intelligence of a Burgess in the qualities of our people," he placed a hand on Leonard's shoulder. "Fear not," the man leaned close enough to speak against Leonard's ear "you are no use to us dead."