Chapter 12

It was quite strange for me to be buried in the past in the Post World War Two period in a place that I had only visited once or twice in my true time zone. I was a male Irish Catholic from New York City in my original time, and now I was a Jewish female recently saved from a concentration camp and was servicing the escaped Hitler as his mistress as he formulated the design of the Fourth Reich for eventual world domination.

Thankfully, Karl was preparing to transfer to South America to ensure our infrastructure there was able to meet the demands of future expansion. Our base in Northern Ireland was part of a British plan to confront the dangers of world Communism at the forefront of desires of the Soviet Union to rule the world and destroy Western Civilization. The troubles in Ireland at that time gave the Nazis good cover for their seeding of the British economy and politics from within. I could only surmise that was exactly what Hitler had in mind with defeating the United States by shredding the powers of American government from within and brainwashing the populace into accepting the New World Order.

Doctor Brandt had numerous files filled with data about the Third Reich’s seizure of Jewish wealth to finance Hitler’s infiltration of his enemy’s societies from within until it was too late for them to reverse his eventual takeover of their governments and economies.

From my vantage point of seeing History from the future, I was able to foretell the eventual fall of the Soviet Union and the rise of China as the final enemy of the Fourth Reich and not the United States which had been taken over by Socialistic forces from within.

I was not prepared for my gender shift in the current time travel adventure, but I was more upset with my close physical connection to Hitler, whom I detested with every fiber of my conscious thought.

I knew that the rise of Neo-Nazism was a fact in the future throughout the entire world, but I had never heard of an Irish component of the situation and wondered how this Fourth Reich plan would be spread inside the borders of the Fatherland as the new German people were united in the future with a much more diverse populace.

I was successful in turning over my duties as Hitler’s mistress to several well-trained females to keep him contented in that area of his existence. My primary chores now consisted of running the villa from an operational level and keeping track of our infrastructure outreaches into Belfast and all the way down to Dublin in the south.

One of my contacts was with an Irish Catholic priest in Belfast by the name of Father Murphy who was a Jesuit and had political connections in Irish government, both North and South, and was also employed by the British government as an informer about Republican activities.

He was a big man with shocking red hair and had been a former military man with a mysterious background during the war and a hard drinker to judge by his stock of beverages in his kitchen.

I discovered up front he was not one of those priests that was involved in the altar boy scandal because he bent me over his sofa in his splendid office and navigated my feminine channel with great skill and in a frenzy of passion that completely left me dazed and confused for some time afterward as I recovered from the assault.

“I certainly didn’t expect that from a man of the cloth, Father.”

He offered no apology for his aggressive actions and I wasn’t really looking for one because in all honesty I had thoroughly enjoyed our little adventure and I was soaked with my own juices as well as his copious spunk that ran down the insides of my trembling legs.

The simple fact was that I was overly excited by the sight of him in his religious garb wearing the huge gold cross around his neck like a badge of courage. I had always loved the feeling of being “bad” and for some strange reason it inspired me to open wider and give the man more of my private essence than I usually did with new acquaintances.

His housekeeper was a young woman from Eastern Europe recently relocated in Belfast by some shadow government organization in London. I caution you that this was immediately after World War Two and the intelligence apparatus was in a formative stage in the Western countries. The need to switch from an anti-Nazi defensive posture to a more aggressive anti-Communist stance was just beginning and the agencies were all scrambling to catch up with the firm grip that Stalin had imposed on all facets of the Soviet Union. His propaganda started early in the school system warping the brains of “little comrades” long before the ravages of puberty started deep inside their budding cores.

The housekeeper’s name was Stella which didn’t sound very Russian to me reminding me of a decadent play I had seen at some time in my past in the future on Broadway.

The priest was pulling my knickers down yet again and I decided enough was enough.

“Father, we need to make plans to infiltrate the meeting tonight in order to gain knowledge of the American influence in shipping of arms into the country. I suspect the Americans have been playing possum with us in supplying the IRA with the tools of war and we need to stay on top of the situation here in Belfast.”

The bleary-eyed man shook his head in annoyance at my words as if he was being tormented by an interfering mother with house rules that made his appreciation for the raw side of life a bore that drove him to drink. In some respects, he was right on the money, but I knew we needed to stay ahead of the Americans if we had any chance of planting the seeds of the New World Order of the Fourth Reich right here in Northern Ireland.

Karl was in Rio de Janiero right at the moment.

I guess that I was awarded the task of running the Belfast operation with little or no guidance from the SS cohort. Hitler was easy to keep entertained as long as I kept him provided with his easel and paint supplies and furnished him a new blonde bimbo every now and the to satisfy his need for feminine companionship. I always woke up in the morning expecting one of the SS men to burst into my bedroom accusing me of being a Jew and taking me down to the soundproofed basement for my punishment and execution.