September 20, 1955. While the rest of the country enjoyed cooling temperatures associated with Fall, Miami residents feared landfall of Hurricane Ione. Intermittent squalls associated with hurricane bands coming ashore soaked the outside environment.
The Colonel arrived early to work that day. It was normal for the Germans to meet at a Cuban Coffee shop each morning. They read individual papers, and discussed events of the day. Paramount was how local zeitgeist supported, or contradicted, stated goals.
Von Unterscheisse entered his office, removed his raincoat, and shook what little moisture remained onto the carpeted floor. He turned and hung the garment, by its hood, onto the hall-tree positioned in the corner. In his hand was his daily Miami Herald.
The man moved toward the sofa, sat, and plopped the soggy newspaper onto the coffee table. Gently, he peeled pages apart as to not damage the information filled journal.
Habitually, he moved first to sports pages. He enjoyed Falls in Miami; reading daily accounts of American football. The Colonel was especially fond of Otto Graham. It was his Teutonic sounding name that first caught the Colonel's eye. As knowledge of football grew, so did his appreciation for the man who reminded Von Unterscheisse of home. The player entered the NFL in 1946 and caught the attention of the infiltrator not long after his arrival. 1955 would be the footballer's final year. The infiltrator's decade long appreciation grew into admiration.
After twenty minutes reading the paper, the Colonel heard Ms. Weinstein arrive at her desk. The sound of her drawer opening and keys being dropped inside alerted the man. He didn't feel compelled to offer a morning greeting.
The secretary's office was an open space; a gap between the Colonel's and General's inner sanctuaries. She had an open view across the catwalk that extended the width of the building; toward stairwells positioned along exterior walls.
Feminine sensibilities were challenged several times a day as boisterous warehouse workers verbally tossed colorful language amongst the ranks.
A few minutes later the General was heard; loudly entering the facility.
It struck the Colonel odd. The senior officer had always conducted himself with grace; even in the face of Allied and Russian forces closing in on Berlin. Escape from capture was a contingency long planned for amongst high-ranking Nazi officers. Rat-lines had been constructed with willing conspirators; positioned along many routes to freedom. Never once did the General fear capture.
The morning of September 20th was different. Something threatened their very existence.
Colonel Von Unterscheisse heard the man slam his office door. He leaned forward and peered through his open entry; into the secretary's space.
The officer and Ms. Weinstein made eye contact.
The secretary shrugged her shoulders indecisively; not sure what had the General so agitated.
The second-in-command stood and made his way around the coffee table. He stood inside the frame of his open doorway; ignoring Ms. Weinstein's stares.
Von Unterscheisse stared at the closed door of his superior. Whatever news that'd stirred the leader so deeply must be understood by the man he trusted most.
Boldly, the man traversed the small expanse between offices. He rapped on the door firmly, but without force enough to exacerbate agitation.
"Come in," he heard from behind the closed entry.
The Colonel gently, yet firmly, turned the door-knob, and pushed the door open. Once inside he spied the General standing at the window; looking south toward the city of Miami. "Is everything okay?"
The General simply shook his head.
"Is it personal, or…"
"Devastating."
"How so?"
The General shook his head again. "Have a seat on the sofa."
The Colonel dutifully followed instructions. He continued looking at his boss' back; awaiting information whenever the man felt compelled to share.
The General turned away from the window and walked toward the club chair adjacent the couch.
He sat down.
"The military in Argentina have effected a coup against Peron."
The Colonel's jaw flexed as he gritted his teeth. He understood the ramifications of such actions.
"We've had to destroy every facility we built over the last decade down there. And our…toothbrush mustachioed friend was forced to flee." The General shook his head disgustedly. "He had to leave that beautiful house at Inalco." The General glanced toward the ceiling; focusing on nothing other than the visualization of the beautifully isolated lakeside retreat. "It was truly built for a man of our Führer's stature."
"Where will he go?"
The General shook his head. "They aren't saying."
"That's understandable." The Colonel paused. "Will this affect us in any way?"
The General shrugged. "I'm not sure if the Argentine military captured any records concerning our operation…or any ongoing operations across the world. Hopefully, they just think their country was where Hitler and Eichmann escaped."
Singular focus upon world domination had only been interrupted at the hands of Allied forces. Centralized power intoxicated men like Juan Peron. As with an alcoholic, satiation of preeminence was never a consideration. They continued to consume via designed destruction.
Centralized control of the Nazis' still vital Third Reich had been set up throughout Argentina. Sparse landscape afforded the opportunity for evil to be sprinkled throughout the countryside; lost among apathetic residents. Records of cells operating throughout the world were saved, but the destruction of carefully constructed facilities left a vacuum; a lapse in command-and-control.
Nazis always developed contingencies. Reconstituting into an effective leadership group took months. During that time groups like the one led by Hochstühl and Von Unterscheisse became rudderless. Apartheid in South Africa, the many cells across the United States, and those operating Banana Republics in Central and South America feared communicating with one another. Coordination of actions must remain with the central authority.
Monitored communications most likely led to the downfall of Peron; and those sympathetic to Nazi ideals.