The Everglades - Chapter Thirteen

13

April 1957. Von Unterscheisse and Hochstühl waited in the office of the latter. Their boldest chessboard move had been successful. Only twelve years after their arrival they’d secured the office of Mayor of Miami.

He joined the meeting that day.

The man’d served with the Nazis during the war. The name given on his CIA issued birth certificate was Richard Kidwell Sharp. Ostensibly, the man came to Miami after serving Allies during World War II. His background was a kid from Normandy, Tennessee. It was a far-away place, yet resonated southern values. Most from that region embraced Puritan ethics; hard work and devotion to God.

Miami’s newest mayor represented the shift in political environment casting citizens as victims; incapable of helping themselves; unwilling to help one another.

Similar moves were made in cities throughout the world.

As Richard Kidwell Sharp, the man attended the University of Miami and Stetson University Law School in St. Petersburg. He’d established a law practice in the city and assimilated as his handlers hoped he would. Twelve years of backstory was deemed adequate to satiate local curiosity concerning the man elected mayor.

Joining the three that day was a German scientist who’d spent the war stationed at Ravensbrück; Wolfgang Gerhard. Research from medical experiments carried out on Jewish prisoners was brought by the man who’d gained citizenship via Operation Paperclip. Gerhard was given a temporary position at Miami State University. Against the orders of Harry Truman, who’d insisted all Nazis return to Germany once work was completed, Gerhard was promoted to lead the university’s Chemistry department.

Sharp was elected in November of 1956. He’d taken office three months earlier. The man successfully unseated conservative power in the town that’d always embraced the Godly.

Political control was a must. Majority wins affected totality. Even near-majorities proved useful. Sway was supported by coercion and corruption.

Convincing poll-workers to embrace a more significant role, beyond single votes, wasn’t difficult. Threats against those steadfastly embracing equitable processes created majorities where there were none. An undesignated Everglades’ Potter’s Field ensured the secret society would never be exposed.

Initial corpses had been Franklin Billie and Sarah Osceola.

The three sat silently awaiting the arrival of the scientist. For all the social strife caused by the two in just over a decade’s time, they understood the grander plan included burgeoning science and technological disciplines. Much had been learned through experiments conducted during the war. Ready-made Guinea Pigs were available within razor-wire encircled Concentration Camps dotting German and Polish landscapes. Equal contempt was shown for post-war humans possessing belief in a benevolent God.

The large vacuum-tube-driven intercom atop Hochstühl’s desk sparked to life. The pretty secretary Weinstein’s voice echoed throughout the office. “Herr Gerhard is here to see you, sir.”

The former General leaned forward in his chair. He reached and activated the switch. “Please send him in, Ms. Weinstein.”

Moments later the pretty Jewish woman opened the door and stepped inside. Moving to clear the opening, she held the doorknob behind her back and swept her left arm inside the General’s office.

Accepting the invitation to enter, and breaching the doorway, was a man dressed in all black. His Fedora matched. A velvet band around the hat was of the same color; only a slightly lighter shade. The man’s appearance emanated Nazi’s commitment to darkness. Even the warm Miami spring day wouldn’t deter commitment to occult fashion.

The man strode confidently into the office. He removed his hat and handed it sharply to the secretary; without remark.

He looked the three other men in their eyes, individually; nodding slightly.

Gerhard moved away from the three, toward the sofa positioned against the far wall. He sat and removed a silver cigarette case, along with a long black filter. He removed a single smoke from the pack and inserted it into the holder’s end. Leaning forward, the man reached toward the stick-lighter on the coffee table. He pressed the wand sharply; down and across the internal flint. From the contraption he withdrew the stick; its tip aflame.

As the man sat back into the sofa and satisfactorily lit the end of his cigarette, the other three stood from seats around the General’s desk. In unison, the men moved across the office and sat adjacent the scientist.

“Willkommen, herr Gerhard,” the General offered.

Mayor Sharp waved his hands aggressively, in defense of his native tongue. “Please. Let’s speak English. I find if I don’t, my German accent sneaks through. I’d hate to destroy all that we’ve worked so hard to build.”

“Very well,” the scientist offered, taking control of the meeting.

General Hochstühl felt compelled to exercise his role as moderator. “Herr Gerhard, this is the Mayor of Miami.” He held an outstretched arm toward the smiling politician. “And this is Colonel Von Unterscheisse. He fought with us in the war.”

“Fought?” The man questioned, condescendingly.

Von Unterscheisse chimed in. “Yes. I began the war in North Africa; with Rommel.”

“Africa,” the racist scientist scoffed. “And as you recall, the man was involved in the plot to murder Hitler on July 20, 1944.”

The Colonel withdrew pride in his response. “But he was a brilliant military man. A true German.”

The scientist inhaled from his cigarette holder, as he looked toward the ceiling. He repeated rhetorically, “a true German.”

Mitigating-ly, the Colonel offered through a name-drop, “I was transferred to Berlin to work with Goebbels before the plot developed.”

General Hochstühl wondered many times about his Colonel’s devotion to their cause. Now the newest member of their confederation obviously possessed the same doubt. He wished to move the meeting forward. “Herr Gerhard, you’ve requested this meeting with the Mayor. We are here to discuss a topic of your choosing.”

Without moving his head from its elevated gaze toward the ceiling, the man bit the end of his holder and shifted singular scrutiny between the three men seated around him. “Yes. I suppose we should begin.”

The three sat smiling; accepting whatever request was made by the man.

For the first time Gerhard took the time to embrace his surroundings. On the wall behind the General’s desk hung a painting. From its center emanated twelve radial sig runes, extending from a darkened center. The man smiled. He waxed poetic. “I haven’t seen such a wonderful conception of our Black Sun since the war. Those days and nights at Wewelsburg were truly wonderful.”

The General responded with a nod. The man’s arrogance was unlike anything he’d encountered since the war. Hochstühl’d lost his ability to suffer elitism with a smile. There was work to be done.

The scientist drifted back into reality. “Anyway,” he pointed to the aforementioned artwork. “That does offer a perfect representation for our meeting today.”

Everyone silently awaited revelation of purpose.

“It’s darkness that drives our mission. We must capture and destroy light; never to flicker hope or love again.”

“By light you mean people, right?” The Mayor asked.

The scientist drew in and exhaled an exacerbated deep breath. “Yes. It is those who believe in a God of benevolence, who won’t even show himself to the world.” He thumped his chest. “It is we who control the world.”

“But aren’t we also animated by the light?” Asked the Colonel.

The man became irritated at Von Unterscheisse’s innocence once again. “It’s shades of energy that distinguishes those who rule the world, the material, that which can be seen and touched. In order to rid the world of human manifestations, paving the way for global control, we must define life as being dark.”

“How can we accomplish that? It seems impossible.” The General attempted to eliminate digressions.

The man smiled. “That’s why I’m here.” He glanced toward the Mayor. “We need to add fluoride to the city’s water system.”

“Why?”

“Because it is an industrial waste that we’ve found through medical experiments will calcify the Pineal Gland; that which connects us to higher vibrations in the universe. Once we disconnect humanity from their God, they’ll become detached from reality. Then we’ll define reality for them.”

The Mayor shook his head. “I’ll never be able to accomplish that. An industrial waste? No way.”

Gerhard pointed to the two former Army officers. “They’ve done such an excellent job of making money in this enterprise,” he motioned around the room, “that we have the funds to advertise. We’ll create campaigns, based on research of course, assuring parents it’ll help children’s teeth grow stronger, and prevent cavities.”

“What is our ultimate goal, herr Gerhard?”

“By disconnecting Miami’s residents from the universe, they’ll begin to think of themselves as nothing more than sheep roaming about a plain. Their natural curiosity to define how they fit into the world will drive thoughts completely inward.” The scientist smiled. “Everyone will become a narcissist; viewing the world and its occupants as nothing more than extensions of their own existences; inverting reality. Americans will begin taking on the accomplishments of others as their own; sports stars, musicians, actors…and best of all…politicians. Through media narratives, we’ll support them as the enlightened ones. These idols will become the most personal reflection of the narcissistic-apotheosis we create. They’ll believe any lie put forth as scientific fact; living completely in darkness. Individuality emanates from God. Once we destroy the strong human, we’ll have Americans spitting on each other in the same manner we had Germans spitting on Jews as we marched them to gas-chambers.” Gerhard paused. “Our media will resonate messages long enough, and repeatedly, that those narcissists will define themselves however we characterize them. That same media apparatus will then broadcast messages contrary to self-conception; stoking anger. These people will become our unconscious army; separated from God. They’ll destroy everything that doesn’t fit that self-conception we define for them.” He laughed sinisterly. “We’ll have them believing they are part of an intellectual process. They’ll eventually destroy themselves.” He bobbed his head indecisively. “This is a bit outside my area of expertise. It’s been part of our psychological experiments for decades. The messaging will be handled by our propaganda arm. Through disinformation, we’ll define everyone based on that which makes them humanly different. Anyone who views them outside of their own conception will elicit violent reactions based in narcissism. We will define every being on this planet in whatever manner we wish; ever slicing the human pie into more and more individual pieces. They’ll be completely incapable of coalescing against us.” He shrugged. “But that’s decades away.”

“Decades, huh?” The General replied rhetorically.

The scientist took a deep drag from his cigarette and blew smoke into the air above the four meeting attendees. “We’ll be able to mark progress, and assess the effectiveness of our plan.”

“How so?” The Mayor inquired.

“By redefining societal norms.” The man leaned forward and tapped ashes from his cigarette into an ashtray on the coffee table. He leaned back into the sofa and continued. “The fluoride will begin affecting the children of this current generation. As they mature into teenagers, in the sixties, we’ll introduce a drug culture; convincing them their parents are square and that careers are pointless.”

The General nodded. “Thereby destroying production.”

“Exactly.” Another drag from his cigarette was blown inconsequentially into the air. “Free love will become their mantra. Families in future generations will be fractured by casual attitudes toward sex. Americans will begin to seek purpose through genitals. It will become the only spiritual experience they’ll conceive. Politicians will offer aid for single-mothers. Money will become the only thing that matters in life; that which moves life forward. Subsequent generations will be taught that political figures are the only ones who care. Transference of God’s benevolence will be complete. After Americans are taught to worship false idols, we’ll give them as many as they can handle to occupy feeble minds.”

The General’s giddiness exceeded his ability to contain himself. “We’ve never known the complete plan. Thank you. Thank you, herr Gerhard for sharing such a glorious vision of dominance.” The former SS officer boasted. “What a brilliant and well-thought-out plan. It’s so good to be German.”

The Colonel interjected. “There won’t be enough people who’re willing to sacrifice eternal life to help us with a plan of such grand design.”

The scientist smiled. “We’ll create an endless line of people willing to accept their thirty pieces of silver in order to sellout humanity.”

“Money doesn’t grow on trees,” Von Unterscheisse retorted.

“It will when it becomes only paper. We learned that during our Weimar Republic.”

The meeting represented the first occasion Everglades infiltrators understood strategy beyond their lifetimes. Conception grew within both minds. Clear were the depths to which they were responsible for dragging Miami’s population. Success could only be defined by those for whom they worked. Control over souls was to be given over to darkness embraced by global elite. There was a handful of humans whose sole purpose it was to prove physical manifestations were greater than universally pure love.

Hochstühl and Von Unterscheisse’d done an admirable job creating a multi-faceted approach to destabilizing society. Their cracked mosaic of a dystopian culture came into focus.