Bitesize 2.3

Ok this was pretty long. I think I'll take a day off tomorrow. Tune in on Saturday night for more.
Bitesize 2.3

Nearly three hours later Ed's plane touched down on the tarmac of Frankfurt airport. From there he had a half hour taxi ride to Wiesbaden. Even with the time difference it was still only mid evening and Ed pondered where best to find Odolf. He had the guy's home address, as well as the location of a café he frequented. Ed figured he'd stand a better chance at Odolf's house and got the taxi to drop him off a couple of streets away. He walked leisurely down the next streets, running through what he was going to say in his mind. If Odolf was about to flee anyway he might not need much convincing.
As he rounded the next corner his luck was in. Right across the street, heading toward the house as well was his target! Thanking pure dumb luck Ed ran across the street to catch up with him. A few paces away he called out.
"Herr Scherer?"
The man whipped around instantly, looking exactly as he did in the photograph. He shouted a sentence at Ed in German. Ed didn't understand the words but he was clearly angry.
"Sorry look. I don't speak German. I'm from England..."
"England?" said Odolf in English this time, a look of genuine surprise on his face, "You're not from the military?"
"No. I'm from a private organisation."
"Did He send you?!" Odolf was angry once more.
"Who?"
Odolf shook his head, the anger leaving him.
"No, no. Of course. You would have attacked me if he had sent you. But first the military, now you. It is only a matter of time. How ironic that time is now the one thing I lack."
"Yeah, about that. You're planning on leaving soon, right?"
"How do you know about all this? How did you know my name?"
"I'm from a private organisation." Ed said again, "We're willing to offer you sanctuary, away from the military, in exchange for your co-operation."
"Away from the military? Ha!" Odolf said scornfully, "Boy, you understand so little of what is going on. It is not the military I run from."
"Then who? Who is He?"
Odolf looked around him.
"It is not safe to talk of such things here. Come."
He hurried toward the house and Ed ran after him. Odolf opened the door, ushered Ed inside, then locked it again behind them. As the key clicked in the lock Ed turned round to face him only to come face to face with a gun barrel. Odolf held a pistol, pointing directly at him. He motioned with the gun.
"Door on the left, the dining room."
Ed did as he was told, opened the door to the dining room and went in. Odolf followed him, the pistol trained on him the whole time.
"Hands up high." said Odolf and with his free hand he pulled a silver cigar shaped object from his pocket. He flicked a switch that seemed to do nothing and then passed the device all around Ed, from his neck, down his torso and arms and the outsides and insides of each leg.
"I'm not armed." said Ed.
"Or bugged either." said Odolf, sounding satisfied. He put the silver object away and lowered the gun. "I had to check. Now that the military have caught up with me, He will only be a few paces behind."
Ed put on his best understanding face.
"So let me help. Tell me what's going on."
"You wouldn't understand."
"I already know that you're not Ottokar Rothstein. You're Odolf Scherer, born around 1912 yet somehow still looking younger than me. I know the military think you know where Odolf is. And I know that you're planning on running. How long have you been running Odolf? You thought coming back to Germany after thirty odd years you'd be safe?"
Odolf put the gun aside and opened the drinks cabinet to one side. He took out two glasses and filled them both with scotch, handing one to Ed.
"Sit down, Englishman."
"Ed. Ed Baxter." said Ed, taking a seat at the dining table. Odolf sat down next to him and took a swig from the glass.
"I thought after thirty years they might have forgotten, but it seems no one did. Everyone still wants poor Odolf."
Ed took a hit from the whisky. It was strong and cheap and numbed his throat.
"All I wanna know is what happened to you. It can't hurt to tell me right? Who's this 'He' you keep mentioning?"
"It's him. He's still alive, I know it. Schwarzen Seele they called him. "The Blackened Soul". I think he revelled in the double S. Such evil."
"Who?"
"One of yours." Odolf said with a wry grin, "Crowley."
"Crowley?"
"Aleister Crowley, boy."
"I don't understand..."
"It was during the war... Hitler was mad with his insatiable lust for power. Determined to win at any cost. Crowley was looking to meet with him you know."
"I remember reading that. He didn't manage it though right? Died a few years after it all ended?"
"Wrong." Odolf shook his head. "Oh he met with Hitler all right. Warped his mind even further, filling his head with fancy ideas about black magic. Left a doppelgänger back in England. Perfect double of himself. So perfect that when he drugged himself to death they still didn't know it wasn't Crowley."
"So he was in Germany during the war?"
Odolf nodded, slugging back the whisky and pouring another. He topped up Ed's glass.
"There was a little village, I forget its name, but I was posted there along with a few other soldiers and a handful of hand picked scientists and occultists. It was all Crowley's doing. He said he could invoke the power of demons into a man. Beings from another realm. There were POWs. Some English, some French, some Albanians, even some Germans, traitors, Jews. Anyone who was expendable was fair game for Crowley's experiments. Most of them died during the rituals, some survived. But for months there was nothing but failure. Hitler got angry, demanded proof of progress from Crowley before he'd send more subjects. I remember him locking himself away for days on end, reading his books, chanting weird languages. And then one day he gathered us all together. Said he'd solved it. There was something different about him. I could see it in his eyes. I believed him, we all did. He got one of the few POWs remaining. An English guy, bald with a goatee beard. He started the ritual with us all there watching. It only took around twenty minutes. More of his weird chanting and spilling of blood and weird symbols. When he got near the end, there was thunder. It came from nowhere, filling the skies and the bald guy... He was chained to the floor but he just stood up."
"He broke through his chains?"
"He didn't break them. They were still on the floor. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, but he passed right through the chains, or they passed right through him."
"Raddick!"
"Yeah. That might have been his name." Odolf looked thoughtful as he slugged back the whisky some more, "Raddick. He looked evil after that, but strong. Crowley was raving by that point, saying there wasn't enough time to get a message off to the Führer to send more POWs. The time was now, he said. He wanted all of us. Being there, seeing what had happened to Raddick. It was hard not to want that power. Some of the other guys weren't convinced immediately but then Raddick... He walked up to Crowley and just... walked right through him like he wasn't even there. Crowley said that was just the start of it, whipped the men up into a frenzy promising the glory of being the first of the New Aryans, that it wasn't about anthropology but power. We didn't need much persuading, greedy young fools that we were. We all took part in that same ritual. When it was all over I felt different, we all did. But none of us had the power that Raddick had. Crowley was comatose by that point, speaking in tongues as he rolled around the floor. Hours passed and the thunder still roared out overhead. One of the other soldiers was the first. He suddenly sat bolt upright and roared, not in fear, but a show of strength. A primal powerful roar. He marched right over to the table and cleaved it in two with his bare hands... It was like he was a different man. No. Not a man. Something else. He was wild, destructive. He and Raddick, they looked at one another and then took off. Raddick passed right through the wall and the other guy smashed it through and followed him. The rest of us just sat there, confused. Crowley was unresponsive. He just lay there in his own little world. I tried to rouse him, to ask what was going on, if he'd succeeded with the rest of us. He kept mumbling something about sleeping. As the hours went by it began to dawn upon us that Crowley had failed. We didn't want to be there when Hitler found out. We all swore to each other not to say a word about it and we took off. We ran, went into hiding, escaped the country. Each going his separate way. It never occurred to me that anything was different at first. I was still the same old me. But as the years went by it soon became obvious that I wasn't ageing. Every day I looked the exact same. But you know what the scary part is Ed?"
He looked over at Ed.
"When I sleep... I see things. Blood, chaos, destruction. Carnage. The apocalypse. It's like there's something sleeping inside of me, waiting to come out. You've heard of Sleepers right? People hypnotized to carry out some secret mission when triggered by a key word or sound? And years, even decades later something can set that off by accident and they go on some mad killing spree? That's how I feel. I go to sleep every night fearing that by morning I'll be someone else, someone like Raddick. A killer. A demon."
Odolf dropped his forehead onto the table and sobbed.
"I can't ever escape it. It must be the same for the others. And Crowley... He's still out there somewhere, still looking for us."
Ed didn't know what to say. He reached out and patted the sobbing man on the back.
"We can help you Odolf. Come back with me, to England. We'll keep you away from Crowley. We'll try everything we can to help you."
"And what if it wakes up? What then?"
Ed didn't have a clue and a moment of silence passed between the two.
"Well, you can't keep running for ever." said Ed, "If there is something inside of you... If it wakes up... We could keep you safe."
"You mean imprisoned."
"I mean confined. For your safety and everyone else's. We have a secure facility."
"Secure?" yelled Odolf. "I saw a guy walk clean through a wall."
"Raddick?" Ed couldn't help but smile. "We have Raddick."
The shock was plain to see on Odolf's face.
"But how?"
Ed shrugged.
"Something to do with electricity. But if we can keep him out of harm's way, perhaps we can do the same for you."
Odolf finished the last of the whisky in his glass.
"Fine. But we leave now. I just need to pack a few things."
"Now?"
"I was planning on leaving in the morning anyway. Crowley's a madman. The worst kind, a powerful madman. He's possessed. Who knows what he can do? I can't stay here waiting for him to show up."
Odolf stood up and passed him the gun.
"Wait for me outside, make sure the coast is clear."
Ed took the gun.
"Ok. Don't be long. I have a plane waiting at Frankfurt airport, just in case we get split up."
Odolf nodded and made his way upstairs. Ed watched him go, downed the last of his scotch and then made for the door.