Down the Rabbit Hole- Nazis in Tibet Read online

  DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE

  Jason Walker

  Amazon Kindle Edition

  DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE

  All rights reserved. Copyright © 2018 by Mr F. McLeod (SNV76627792). No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author. For more information visit Jason’s website at: https://repulsintechnology.com

  Don’t miss the next story in the Down the Rabbit Hole series:

  SOUTH AMERICA

  Two Germans are causing havoc, destruction and death in the Paraguayan jungle.

  British Intelligence is infested with traitors. The head of the operation, Greer, has his own way of taking care of this problem. A brilliant plan is devised where all radio communications will be made in Maori, baffling the Germans who are listening in. A beautiful Maori Woman is sent to teach the language to one of the agents, but is that all she will do?

  Find out what happens in our next book entitled:

  South America.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  A Note from the Author

  Nazis in Tibet

  Part SEVENTEEN

  This installment of Down the Rabbit Hole takes us to Tibet, where, two German adventurers meet their deaths under mysterious circumstances while exploring a sinkhole cavern. The Nazis have so far failed to find what they are looking for in the network of tunnels, and a high ranking colonel approaches an elderly and senior Tibetan Monk for help, and, under the threat of execution, he, and everyone at his monastery take the only sensible course of action.

  It seems that the mountains of France are not the only ones hiding something which the Nazis have an interest in finding!

  Based on true events.

  Chapter One

  A Sinkhole Cavern, Tibet.

  The legend of the sinkhole cavern hidden in the mountainous terrain of Tibet was known to few and could therefore hardly be described as a tourist destination. Fritz and Colin Winkler, two German brothers, along with their friend, Heinrich Meier, were the first to visit this place for a very long time. They both stood at the mouth of the cavern, their bodies plucking every atom of adrenalin available for the descent into the unknown.

  Below the surface, it was absolutely pitch black. Not even the Sun’s bright rays were going down there.

  “Come on, let’s do it, we’ve been waiting a long time for this,” said Fritz.

  They had agreed that the elder brother, Fritz, along with Heinrich would go down while the younger brother, Colin, would stay at the top feeding them both the rope they would need.

  Last minute checks were made. The rope was secure around a large boulder, and both stood over the edge balancing on their heels, the rope now being the only thing stopping them from a long free fall. It was time. Over they went and started their long journey downwards with Colin guiding the rope and peering downwards hoping to see something, which he did not.

  “Fritz, do you see anything?” asked Heinrich. “Nothing. Keep going.”

  The further down they travelled, the longer the rope holding them became meaning they were swinging, as were the two dim paraffin lamps which they were carrying which caused the shadows to dance around in a wild and unpredictable way.

  Their rope was almost exhausted and they called up to Colin to throw two more lengths down. They both fumbled around in the darkness and managed to attach their new supply to the old. Suddenly and without warning, Fritz dropped several feet but managed to stop himself.

  “How much further down does this thing go?” asked Heinrich.

  Without answering, Fritz found a small stone which was loose in the wall, and dropped it.

  Five seconds later they heard the faint crack of it falling onto the floor at the bottom. “That’s how deep it is,” said Fritz, his face trying to smile but betrayed by fear.

  They continued their descent, and Fritz was the first one to finally put his boots onto the floor. He looked up and the top of the sinkhole - and Colin - were no bigger than a pinprick. He placed his lantern on the ground and started to look around.

  “What do you see,” asked Heinrich excitedly. Fritz didn’t respond.

  Something had caught his eye. He walked over to it and knelt down. His eyes opened wide with amazement.

  “Someone has been down here before us. I am holding something which was laying on the floor. It looks like an ancient candleholder.”

  Colin, feeling the slackness in Fritz’s rope correctly assumed that his brother had finally reached the bottom and yelled down asking if there was anything of interest. His voice was barely discernable due to the heavy echoing.

  “I found this, someone has been here before us,” replied the elder brother, holding up the candleholder. It was, however, too small for Colin to see.

  Fritz picked up his lantern again, and walked around the floor. He discovered several tunnels leading off in various directions, and on the floor of each one were scattered many artifacts most of which seemed to be made of gold and silver.

  He then found a crate. And another. The place was stacked high with crates and boxes, all locked. Heinrich was still dangling on his rope above the floor unable to see much of what Fritz was doing or seeing himself.

  Fritz’s curiosity got the better of him. He chose a crate at random and decided to open it. He just had to see what was inside. He approached the chosen one, bent down and heaved on the corner of the lid. Nothing. Again, he pulled using every ounce of strength in his body. He lost his grip and started to fall backwards.

  As he fell to the ground, he spotted something in the shadows beyond the crates. His eyes opened wide with wonder. It would be the last thing that Fritz Winkler ever saw.

  The deep sinkhole was now shrouded in silence. Both Heinrich and Colin were calling out to Fritz, but their cries were met only by deathly silence. Heinrich started to lower himself, and Colin decided to leave the relative safety of the ground above and entered the deep dark hole himself to see what the hell was going on. It wasn’t long before both of them met the same fate as Fritz, and the bodies of all three men were now the eternal property of the cavern, deep below the ground of the Tibetan Mountain.

  Chapter Two

  A Monastery on a Tibetan Plateau.

  The sky was perfectly blue, not a wisp of a cloud in sight. The Sun, reflecting off the snow covered mountains was blinding.

  An SS officer, Colonel Wolfram Von Sievers was approaching the monastery at a pace with which his interpreter was struggling to keep up with. Col. Sievers was also accompanied by another man, Alfred Feder, who was dressed in formal business attire. Fedder was a senior member of the secretive Thule Society which was known to have undertaken several expeditions in Tibet, and allegedly counted Himmler and Adolf Hitler among its members. The Tibetan Buddhist Monks who they passed took little notice, even though the three of them could not have looked more out of place.

  After having climbed some stone steps leading to the landing at the top of the building, they entered a room where a senior Monk sat. His face was weathered and wise, and he motioned for his new guests to sit in front of him as if he’d been anticipating their arrival.

  A high-ranking elder entered the large room from a door at the far end and joined the group. The Colonel opened the conve
rsation, addressing the senior man directly.

  “You are a liar,” he said in a tone which was only just on the good side of yelling.

  His accusatory opening statement was met with nothing more than a stare from the elder, his face betraying any emotions.

  “I know the tunnels exist. You, together with your brainless, unwashed vermin have lied to us.” He paused to give the interpreter a chance to relay his message.

  The slight man spluttered before translating the message. He could not call a senior elder of a monastery a liar, even if the words did not come from his own lips.

  “Bhante, the colonel has said that he knows the tunnels exist, and he feel that you and your…friends are possibly concealing the truth.”

  The elder smiled ever so slightly, sensing that the interpreter had been more than diplomatic with his choice of words.

  The colonel continued: “We found an entire system etched into these mountains last year. Perhaps you’re disobeying me because you think your damnable Gods will sheath you from the fires of hell, but be rest assured, they won’t. Not even they can protect you from me and the recourses I have.”

  The elder continued smiling and saying nothing, infuriating Von Sievers further, if that was at all possible.

  “I demand to know where the tunnels are, and I demand that you provide me with a guide to take me there.”

  Still no reaction.

  “Your silence will be deafened by the screaming of your monkey friends as we torture them. I, personally will scorch every last one of their eyes until all of you are blind.”

  “He’s very upset, and would appreciate it if you would be kind enough to provide him with a guide to take him to the tunnels, Bhante,” said the interpreter, now visibly shaking.

  The SS officer snapped his head around and looked the interpreter directly in the eyes. “You’d better be telling him every word.”

  “Yes, yes, Colonel, I am. Some of your colloquialisms don’t translate perfectly, but please be assured, you point is being put across,” replied the man, now regretting his choice of profession.

  “Very well. Now, tell him again, I want a guide, and I want one within 24 hours. Explain to him in no uncertain terms what will be coming to him and everyone else here if he does not comply,” said Von Sievers.

  The interpreter cleared his throat. “Bhante, he is threatening to torture and murder you all mercilessly if you do not provide a guide to the tunnels. He is quite serious.”

  The elder pursed his lips, the first time he’d shown any signs of actually being physically alive since the start of the, until now, one-way conversation. Finally, he spoke, using calm and measured tones.

  “Please ask our guest to be informed that I know nothing of these tunnels. We no longer believe in his cause. He, and all those who wear his uniform are blind to the truth.”

  Until now, the interpreter’s diplomacy had been due to respect. Now, it was because of fear.

  “He says he knows nothing of the tunnels of which you speak, Colonel.”

  Von Sievers was now spitting blood. He was used to getting his own way. He leant in closer to the elder and now spoke in a menacingly quiet voice.

  “I know you have cannibal monks in the Himalayas. I am aware of your hidden underground cities. Your continued denial will result in nothing less than us feeding the cannibals with your flesh, and we will keep you alive so that you can watch it happening.”

  “He said he knows about your cannibals and…” the interpreter was cut off by the elder, who simply raised his hand. He understood what had just been said.

  The Colonel concluded the conversation by informing the monk that he had 24 hours to change his mind. He snapped his heel, executed a perfect 180 degree turn on one heel and left. Freder quickly followed, the interpreter decided to stay where he was.

  Chapter Three

  An SS Camp on a Tibetan Plateau.

  The Monastery could be seen high up on the mountain from the SS camp which had been set up in a hurry very recently. It was early morning, and Corporal Fuchs, standing outside the officer’s tent looked at his pocket watch. He looked worried.

  Fuchs entered the tent. It was still dark, and in the corner, lay Colonel Von Sievers, still very much asleep.

  As soldiers are trained to do, he woke up immediately upon sensing another person in the near vicinity. He sat up bolt upright, and snapped at the young corporal.

  “What is it, have those monks arrived yet or not?”

  “No sir,” replied Fuchs, meekly.

  The colonel checked his own timepiece.

  “Scheisse.”

  He instructed the corporal to wait outside, and just a few moments later, he emerged wearing his full uniform, looking immaculate. Also waiting was Alfred Fedder, still wearing exactly the same clothes as he had been wearing the day before, and probably, several days before that.

  The colonel nodded to him, and without a word, Fedder fell in step behind the officer.

  Several junior ranking soldiers were gathered, and once again, Von Sievers and his men started the long walk up to the monastery. Upon arriving, everything was eerily quiet, and there were no monks to be seen anywhere. They headed to the room where the meeting of the previous day had taken place. There, they found the monks. All of them.

  They were all scattered on the floor, dead. Very dead indeed. They had chosen to commit suicide en masse, rather than endure the torture that Von Sievers had promised them. They had chosen to go on their own terms, not on his.

  The colonel was looking around the room, his eyes wild with fury. Fedder was looking around also. They both noticed something wrong. There was one man missing, the elder. They checked his throne, and they took a close look at every body on the floor. He was not there. He had escaped.

  Von Sievers approached one of his men at ramdom.

  “Get back to the camp right now and round up twenty men. You, and they, are to trace every passage which we already know about for the next forty-eight hours. Come and find me immediately upon your return and give me a report as to your findings.”

  The soldier saluted and left.

  “One of us must stay here. I must report all that has happened to Herr Himmler, so please stay behind,” Von Sievers said to Fedder.

  “Of course, Colonel. Good luck with that, he is not going to be pleased. I’m glad not to be in your shoes,” replied Fedder, grimly.

  Chapter Four

  Herr Himmler’s Castle.

  The large circular room had a fire pit in the middle which was blazing, throwing out much needed heat into the room. Standing around the fire in a semi-circle was a group of women dressed in long robes, their faces hidden by hoods. Suddenly, and with no sign of any cue, the robes dropped leaving everyone standing naked. Their hoods remained. On the other side of the fire sat Heinrich Himmler dressed in his black SS uniform, complete with a Nazi Swastika on his arm.

  A priest then entered the room, leading a young girl who looked terrified. They approached what appeared to be some kind of alter, and the other women joined them. The young girl, without command, laid down. The women, their eyes vacant looked down at the girl and closed in, forming a full circle, and held hands.

  The priest reached into his gown and pulled out a goat horn. He raised his arm and with one swift movement, plunged the horn downwards driving it straight into the girl’s heart. Her eyes were wide open, but there was no scream. Death was instantaneous.

  The following morning, a black car flying a small Nazi flag at the front pulled up at the castle, and Colonel Von Sievers alighted. He was shown to the ceremony room, now completely cleaned from the previous night’s activities, and asked to wait outside. Himmler was sitting, as if he hadn’t moved a muscle for a full twenty-four hours, waiting for him.

  Captain Braun, Himmler’s private secretary approached his boss.

  “Herr Himmler. The officer from the Tibetan plateau is here to speak with you.”

  “He’s here now?”

&nb
sp; “Yes, Sir.”

  Himmler stood and straightened his tie. “Prepare the walk.”

  “At once, Sir.”

  Himmler exited the room into the corridor, and saw Von Sievers, who gave what was possibly the most formal salute of his life. Himmler, returning the gesture in a slightly less enthusiastic manner beckoned for the colonel to follow him.

  “Colonel. How deep do the tunnels run? I want them flushed out. There is ancient technology down there which is invaluable to us, and I want it found and recovered.”

  “Commander. I am sorry to inform you that our intended cooperation with the monks has been slightly less than fruitful.”

  “Have you managed to find anything?”

  “I’m afraid not, Sir,” said Von Sievers, his voice shaking slightly. “Have you made an example of them?”

  This was the question the colonel had been dreading.

  “Sir. I am sorry to inform you that in response to our threats of action should they not cooperate with us, the monks have all committed suicide. They are all dead, Sir.”

  “This changes nothing, Colonel. A setback yes, a failure, no. I want you to return there immediately and take three times the men that you currently have at your disposal. With this in mind, hopefully when you return to report to me again, you will have slightly better news.”

  “Sir, I do not think…”

  “Colonel. Surely you do not underestimate the value and importance of what is in those tunnels? You do realise that what is down there will help us to secure the origins or the Aryan race, do you not? Take more men. Take ten times more men if you must, just get this mission completed and make it a success,” said Himmler, making himself very clear.