The Heritage Paper - By Derek Ciccone

History changes with each turn of the page!

What seems like an innocent school project to trace family history, reveals a dark secret.

Maggie Peterson uncovers that her great-grandmother, Ellen, was part of the inner-circle of Nazi Germany. What’s more, she has left behind clues of a diabolical plot that connects to historical events ranging from Pearl Harbor to 9/11 … all building to the upcoming presidential election.

The claims are met with heavy skepticism, and attributed to the failing mind of an elderly woman. But each passing clue washes away doubt, leaving Veronica Peterson trapped in a mother’s nightmare – her instincts are to protect her daughter’s safety at any cost, but knows that Maggie might be the only chance to prevent a sequel of the worst horror story the world has ever seen … and must let her run toward the danger.

The problem with the gene pool is that there is no lifeguard on duty … Rodney Dangerfield

Dedicated to all who fought valiantly against Nazi tyranny, and those who’ve continued the diligence to keep the nightmare from ever happening again.

Chapter One

She lay still in her bed with her hands clasped close to her chest, pretending to sleep. The darkness was penetrated only by a trickle of moonlight sneaking through the curtains. But she could feel his presence.

The man was not the Grim Reaper, but she knew he’d be the last face she saw in this life.

“Has the great Nazi hunter come for me?” her voice sputtered and creaked. After nine decades of life, turning it on was like starting a car in a frigid Munich winter. She could no longer read an eye-chart without the assistance of a telescope, but she could still sense the surprised look on the man’s face. He had no idea she knew.

“Hello, Ellen,” he spoke in a hushed tone. “Think of me as a gypsy moth that has come to defoliate your evil family tree.”

“How did you figure it out?” she played naïve. She didn’t know if she’d fooled the man, but she sure had convinced her own family that she was a dementia-stricken loony tune. The most damning evidence occurred when they found her wandering the grounds in the middle of a cold night, and claiming to have spotted aliens.

“When I was a medical student, a wise doctor told me a story. It was about a young prostitute he treated in Munich named Etta. She had been impregnated by a German soldier and feared for her life if she elected to have the child. The pregnancy was further complicated by Etta’s lifestyle, which had included contracting a severe case of syphilis.

“The doctor risked his own safety to hide out Etta and nurse her to health … and she eventually gave birth to a baby girl. It wasn’t until many years later that this doctor realized he’d helped spread the seeds of evil—a knowledge that led to his murder.”

“And this is relevant to your presence here tonight?”

“You see, that child he delivered was named Ellen.”

She tried to smile, but the muscles in her face no longer cooperated with her demands. “There are those who claim that you no longer have the passion—that you’ve been diverted by your wealthy American lifestyle. But I can tell that the fire still burns deep inside you. It’s why I chose you.”

She strained through her foggy cataracts to see the surprised look on his face. But there was no time to savor small victories. She pointed sharply at the small end-table beside his chair, causing a painful tingle in her arm.

He pulled the chain on a desk lamp and a dull light illuminated the table. A gold cross glistened in the light.

The Nazi hunter appeared mesmerized as he took it into his hands, paying particular attention to the engraved symbol v^988v^ . On the back was Ellen’s Apostle name of Andrew. Like the original, and more famous Apostles, there were twelve of them.

“I’ve seen this before—when we captured Bormann in South America, almost a half century ago. He told us if we ever saw the symbol again, it would mean the Reich was on the verge of regaining power. I thought he was just using it as leverage because …”

“You and your partner were about to kill him,” she finished his thought.

He said nothing, his silence admitting his guilt. That is, if killing a swine like Martin Bormann, the Führer’s personal secretary, could ever be associated with an emotion like guilt. Not only did he betray the Apostles, but he hurt Ellen