War Cry. Wilbur Smith
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Название: War Cry
Автор: Wilbur Smith
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Приключения: прочее
isbn: 9780007535880
isbn:
Konrad pointed to the Nazi badge on his jacket lapel: the black swastika on a white background surrounded by a red ring and outside that a gold wreath, running right around the badge. ‘The Führer himself pinned this golden badge, awarded for special services to the Party, on my chest, because he remembered me from the early days, this rich kid, not even twenty, who joined the march through Munich, November the ninth, 1923 …’
‘Oh God, here we go again …’ Gerhard sighed to himself
‘… who stood shoulder to shoulder with the others who were proud to call themselves National Socialists, who did not break ranks when the police fired on us. Oh yes, the Führer remembers those who stood by him then and who remain true to him now. That is why I combine my role as the head of this great company with the even greater honour of serving as personal assistant to SS-Gruppenführer Heydrich, and why I am privileged to enjoy the confidence of the most senior members of our Party and government. And this is where I come full circle, gentlemen – and Mother – for it is precisely because I put the Party first, and everyone knows it, that I am now able to tell you that the Meerbach Motor Works is about to enjoy the greatest prosperity we have ever known.’
He put his hands on his hips and looked around triumphantly as the room once more echoed to the sound of flesh and bone upon wood.
‘Over the next four to five years the Reich will embark upon a period of military expansion that will make its enemies quake in fear. German factories will build aircraft by the thousands and tanks by the tens of thousands. The days when our nation was forced to bow its head by the Allied Powers will be gone for good, just as the Jews whose betrayal undermined our country and led to its defeat will be gone. And all these fighter aeroplanes and bombers and transports – warplanes unlike any the world has ever seen before – will need engines. All these new tanks, with designs far, far superior to any other tanks on the face of this planet – for who can match Germany for engineering genius? – will require engines to power them, too. And who will supply these engines? Who else but a company cleansed of Jews and commies and perverts, a company whose loyalty to the Party is unquestioned, a company, in short, like the Meerbach Motor Works!’
Konrad bowed his head in modest appreciation of the applause his words had provoked, sat back down again and then, when order had been restored, said, ‘And so, let us proceed with the private element of the meeting. Herr Lange, perhaps you would give us your report on the state of the Meerbach Family Trust’s funds at the present time.’
A short, bespectacled man consulted the papers in front of him and proceeded to give a long and extremely detailed account of capital, income and expenditure, delivered in a flat, nasal monotone. His droning intonation, however, could not disguise one salient, inescapable fact. The Meerbach family was extraordinarily wealthy: not merely rich, but blessed with a fortune on a par with the Rothschilds, the Rockefellers and the Fords. The Meerbach estate stretched for more than thirty kilometres from one end to the other along the shores of the Bodensee. The bank deposits in Frankfurt, Zürich, London and New York matched the reserves of many a nation.
When the recital of facts and figures was complete, various other items on the meeting’s agenda were dealt with, before Konrad said, ‘Very well, I think we can now break for a very well-earned lunch. Unless there is any other business anyone wishes to raise?’
His tone very strongly suggested that there ought not to be and there was much shaking of heads from the men in suits. But then Gerhard von Meerbach raised his hand. ‘Actually,’ he said, ‘I do have a request to make.’
‘Oh really, what is that?’ Konrad snapped back, with no suggestion whatever of brotherly love.
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