If you see anything factually inaccurate with this story or want to expand or modify this story in any way, simply post a review. I'll read them and answer them as soon as I can. Thanks. --The Author
Missing in War: Missing in War/Fehlen in Krieg/Без вести пропавшие в войне
It's the 3rd of May, 1989. You are Mr. James Callahan, flying in New York City from Brussels. You have been in Europe for the past five months doing various sales conferences and meetings with clients for your corporation, a large multinational company that has its North American operations based in New Orleans. You disembark from the plane at the gate at JFK Airport and a man comes up and asks a seemingly innocent question: "Are you Mr. James Callahan?" Of course, you reply yes and the response is surprising, but not at first. He says, "Well, I'm Mr. Gregory Engle of the New Orleans Police Department. I have been investigating something that happened to your family for the past two months after the department did for a while and then I took up the case on a voluntary basis. Mr. Callahan, your family has been missing for the past three months." With that statement, you are now starting to be very nervous and also getting a little terrified. "Mr. Callahan, your family, which consists of your wife, Susan, your sons, Max and Jim, and your daughters, Sophia and Susan, have been declared missing since the 2nd of February, 1989. You are not a suspect of interest because it has been verified that you were on another continent when your family went missing and that you have no suspicious links with anyone that's known to be in contact with you. However, I will have to take you downtown to tell me what your background is and what your position is in your company and so on." You acquiesce with the statement and you pick up your luggage and enter a waiting NYPD car to be transported to the precinct.
You are not handcuffed, nor are you given your Miranda rights. Mr. Engle explains that the reason for this is because you are not being arrested. At the precinct, you tell all to Mr. Engle. "Well, Greg, I was born in Tupelo, Mississippi on the 25th of March, 1939. I went to Parkway Elementary School, for K-3, then Lawndale Elementary, for 4-6, and then for middle school, at Tupelo Middle School from 7th through 9th grade, and finally, I went to Tupelo High from 10th through 12th grade. I was in the class of 1957. After high school, I went to Mississippi State for 4 years and then transferred to Millsaps College for grad school. I got into college on scholarships. I didn't take the bar exam, but I got a law degree from Millsaps in 1965. That fall, I had just graduated from Millsaps in June and we, my father, mother, brother, and me, moved from Tupelo to Jackson, MS. The house burned down in a suspicious fire, but the police could never pin down the suspect that had burned the house. Luckily, no one was hurt due to the fact that no one was home at the time and we had insurance, so the house was rebuilt in a few months and we moved back in around February or March of 1966. In early 1967, having finished all the arrangements with moving, I moved from Jackson to Atlanta, having entered a company that was based in Atlanta. I started out as an accountant, because of my good grades in math in school. I made 36,000 dollars a year and was promoted to senior accountant in 1970. My salary was bumped up to 45,000 dollars a year and I had a company car. In 1976, the company, Altatech Incorporated, asked me to move to Boston and stay there for 2 years. In Boston, the experience was so different for me, having grown up in the South and being used to the hospitality and courtesy extended to everybody in town. I never really got used to Boston and so I was happy with the news that came two years later. In 1978, the company was bought out by a competitor, Penway Incorporated, based in New Orleans, and I was asked to stay with Penway and I moved back south, this time to New Orleans, and I became senior vice president of the company. My salary was bumped up to 75,000 dollars a year, my company car was replaced with a very nice and recent model, I had a corner office, and I had a timeshare in a beach house in the Virgin Islands. In 1982, the company was bought out yet again by Gelleschaft, Incorporated, which was originally based in Bonn and had moved to Brussels by that time. I was promoted to CFO of the company. My salary went up to 250,000 dollars a year, my corner office was much larger, I had a limo and a chauffeur, I had a house provided by the company for myself on the Greek island of Cos, and that year, I married my wife, Susan. Max and Jim were born in 1983, being twins. Susan was born in 1985 and Sophia just two years ago. Back in November, the company asked me if I would go to Europe and conclude some of their most valuable deals with their most wealthiest clients. The CEO said that I would get a very large bonus and I would also get a very large deposit in my pension directly from the company if I successfully finished the deals. I was satisfied with the request and, two months later, I found myself sitting in New Orleans' airport, waiting to board a plane to New York City. When I got to New York City, I phoned my wife and said that I loved her and that I would see her probably in a few months. When I got to Europe, it was the 3rd of January and I jumped in right away and the deals were so complex and involved that it took me roughly 5 months to finish the deals. I would have very little time to relax other than the nights, so I didn't call Susan very often, but she's been so understanding. The last time I called her was about 2 months ago. And that's what I have been doing for the past 5 months. And oh yeah, I got the bonus and the nice addition to my pension from the company." Mr. Engle has taken all this down on paper and says, "Thank you so much, Jim. You have been a big help to me. You can go now." Mr. Engle gives you a satisfied smile and shakes your hand and leads you out of the precinct. You board a plane from JFK to New Orleans the next morning to start the search for your family. Once your plane stops at the gate in New Orleans, you sigh a big sigh of relief. You are finally home. At the airport, while you pick up your luggage, a man comes up to you and says, "Sir, there's a phone call for you." You say thanks and you pick up the phone. The voice is of Greg, the private investigator back in NYC. He says, "Hey, Jim. Did you get back ok? That's good. Now, Jim, I am planning to fly back myself in a few hours. Before I fly back, I have something to tell you. That phone call you said you made to your wife about 2 months ago? The voice you heard was your wife's voice and she showed signs of being under extreme stress, perhaps having been kidnapped. I know this because of the fact we tapped your family's phones and recorded the calls. The reason we had to do this was because of the process of investigating the suspect, the person who kidnapped your family. Now, Jim, when you get home, you have to call the office and tell them the whole story. They should let you off for a few weeks while you search for your family. If they don't, tell them to call me at this number. Thanks, Jim."
You get home and you do what Mr. Engle told you to do and to your surprise, the company's CEO gives you 6 months of paid leave in order that you can have some time to look for your family. The CEO explains that this event would have a negative impact on the company's stock and image if you were seen as being forced to resume your professional life so soon after this tragic event that's just starting to come out and be picked up by the media. After this surprising news, you immediately pick up the phone and call Mr. Engle. Mr. Engle says "Congratulations! Now, Jim, would you please give me your address so we can talk about the search? That's fine, yeah, I know where that is. Yeah, sure, I will meet you there in about 3 or 4 hours. Good bye, Jim." You unpack and watch the TV news to find out anything about the disappearance of your family. To your surprise, there is none. Eventually, you hear a car pull up and a familiar voice saying "Keep the change. You're welcome, sir." There's a knock at the door and you get it. Mr. Engle is standing right there, looking rather tired and worn out. You say hello and you ask him if he would like some coffee or something like that. He says "Yeah, I would like some coffee and maybe some cake, if you have any. That would really hit the spot. Thanks." You get him the food and you are sitting in front of the TV in the living room and your mind has not quite grasped reality yet. You are still in a state of shock. Mr. Engle says, "I'm sorry, Jim. We will try to find them. Now, let me use your phone and call a friend of mine. She could help us by tracking down the kidnappers and the tips that will lead us to your family."
Mr. Engle calls the lady and when he finishes the call, he says, "Jim, I know you don't want to have to travel for a while, but Sherry, that's Ms. Sherry Jankowski, has found a pretty credible tip that your family has been seen in Warsaw, Poland. She's now working to get the necessary documentation for us to go there as soon as possible. The man's name is Pytor Jackorowski, who lives in Warsaw and he says that he saw your family being driven in a taxi to a hotel in the city's center. I don't know the hotel's name, but be assured that it is a not good hotel for Westerners to stay in." One week later, you board a flight from New Orleans to Warsaw via New York City and London. When you finally arrive in Warsaw, you immediately get in a taxi and go to the hotel that your family's holed up in. When you get out of the taxi, there's a glint of metal that you recognize three or four stories above you and you immediately scurry to the relative safety of your taxi seat. To your surprise, a hail of bullets rains down on the sidewalk in front of you. You slam the door, but the concrete fragments crack and then break the window. You scream at the driver to leave immediately. You are rushed to the hospital to receive treatment for your assorted cuts and bruises on your face and hands. Miraculously, you were not harmed seriously during the attempted assassination attempt. The reason the shooter did not shoot through the taxi was because of the location of a tree which shadowed the taxi and allowed it to blend right in, but not you. So, a fortuitous choice of location saved your life. A hour later, after you leave the hospital, you go to your own hotel and swear revenge on the shooter and Greg, who was also miraculously not harmed during the shoot-out, agrees with you enthusiastically. Greg cautions you of not returning to the hotel due to the recent incident. The police are at the site of the shoot-out, but they could not find anyone there, so they don't do anything beyond filing the paperwork. The phone rings and Greg picks up. He says, "Yeah, this is Greg. Yeah, really? That's great. We'll be there soon. Bye."
He tells you that the caller was a man from Japan who had seen the family shuttled through downtown Osaka. You board a flight the very next morning to Osaka through Frankfurt, West Germany and Fukuoka, Japan. When you finally arrive, you rest for a few days at your hotel and then go to the person's house, Junichiro Masmoto. Masmoto-san tells you of seeing the family being taken to a warehouse in the industrial section of town. He says he spied your family being most likely tied up and having a weapon trained upon them because they walked very clumsily and stiffly. Greg tells you and Masmoto-san that you will have to procure some weapons. After leaving the house with Greg, you realize that the story in Warsaw was merely a tactic for the kidnappers to spirit your family to Japan, where they would be hidden, but the efforts of Masmoto-san has ruined the kidnappers' attempt to hide your family from the prying eyes of law enforcement. You also realize that the man known as Jackorowski is to be reckoned with, a dangerous man, indeed. The next few days are spent in procuring the weapons that you will need to defeat the kidnappers. At last, the appointed day arrives and you, along with Mr. Engle, Masmoto-san, and two officers of the Osaka police department, approach the warehouse where your family is being housed stealthily. As you stop the car, a man rolls up the warehouse door and spies you and the armed entourage with you. He screams in a foreign language that's later determined to be Samoan to get the captives in the car and to the airport. Then the man pulls out a weapon and shoots at you and you immediately duck in the car. The police officers fire back but the man disappears and the police officers get in their car. You immediately chase the car that comes out of the warehouse with tires screeching. The man, who's sitting in the front passenger seat, reaches out and sits on the doorsill and fires two shots at the car behind you. The car, which is an unmarked Osaka police department car, swerves off the road and the inhabitants of the car are dead instantly. Right after that car swerves off the road, the shooter aims at your car and fires seven rounds. Miraculously, you are not harmed as you swerve to avoid the bullets but Masmoto-san is hurt badly, sitting in the front passenger seat and having been shot in the chest three times. Mr. Engle, sitting in the back seat, is shot through the arm but is otherwise not hurt. The windshield is gone and the engine is pouring smoke and cutting out due to the rounds having entered the engine compartment. Due to these facts, you are forced to stop the car and evacuate immediately. Your Japanese friend tells you to go after the captors and kill them. After uttering these words, he expires and leaves this world. You got to the hospital to tend to Mr. Engle and to contact the family of Masmoto-san due to the fact that a taxi driver just happened to be driving along on the road you were on at the time and stopped to pick you and the wounded up and take you and Greg to the hospital. Mr. Engle was patched up at the hospital and you were checked out to be fine. A few days later, Junichiro Masmoto, 67, a Osaka native, is cremated, according to traditional Japanese burial rituals. After the funeral, you return to your hotel and you call the police chief. You console the chief about the tragic deaths of the two officers involved in the warehouse incident and the subsequent chase shoot-out, Hideki Suzuki, 35, and Shoji Saito, 56, both Osaka natives. In your mind, you realize that this might be the beginning of a global murder spree. The police chief informs you that the captors might have fled the country. Immediately, the chief stops in the middle of the sentence and tells you that yes, the captors fled the country and they're now in New Zealand. You say thanks and you tell the man that you would be able to transport the captors back to Japan if they were alive, rather than dead, if possible, with the assistance of Mr. Engle and the authorities in New Zealand. After the call, you put down the phone and sigh. In your mind, you are reeling from the events of the last couple of days, which feel like a lifetime to you and you numbly manage to sleep.
The next morning, you board the mid-morning flight from Osaka to Wellington, New Zealand, accompanied by Mr. Engle, via Seoul, South Korea and Auckland, New Zealand. After you arrive, you rest at your hotel for a week and then go to the Wellington police department. You tell them the whole story. After you finish, the police chief tells you that he is very sympathetic to your plight and asks you what you want him to do. You tell him to find out where the captors are holding your family and then capture them. The police chief is satisfied with this and tells you that he will do everything in his power to execute your request. Two days later, Mr. Engle and you get a call from the chief telling you guys that they found the house that your family is holed up in and are sending ten officers to rescue your family. You and Mr. Engle, now fully recovered from the shoot-out in Osaka, go to the house on the outskirts of town. The house is rather small and has a very small backyard and there is no true signs of any vegetation surrounding the house except for some withered patches of grass and some long-dead flowers. The 2 police cars and your rental car pull up in front of the house. The officers pile out of the cars and you and Mr. Engle, both armed, meet up with the officers. The commanding officer tells you and Mr. Engle to stay outside and watch for any activity that spills out of the house. The police walk up to the house and set up a defensive perimeter and the commanding officer walks up to the door and knocks. The officer yells, "Police! This is the police. You're surrounded and you better surrender." The door opens and the commanding officer reaches for his service revolver, but the other guy is too fast and shoots him once in the chest. The officer falls on the front porch on his back, dead. The other officers storm the house through the house's doors, but a terrible racket of gunfire breaks out and 2, then 4, and then 6 officers fall down, never to get up again. Another militant whips out a RPG and fires at the police cars and they blow up, but astonishingly, your rental car doesn't blow up. The militants have now killed all the officers due to three tragic factors: the militants employed armor-piercing bullets, a RPG to kill the 10 officers, plus the commanding officer, and the bulletproof vests the officers were issued by the police department were not strong enough to resist the armor-piercing bullets and the RPG round. The militants spy you and Mr. Engle and fire in your direction. The spray of bullets shatter your rental car's windows as you run to the car to get away to safety. As soon as you manage to get in the car, one of the militants' bullets strikes you in the right side and you black out due to the effects of the bullet and the blood loss you immediately suffer. Some time later, you wake up in the hospital, heavily bandaged on your right side. Mr. Engle, who miraculously was not injured seriously in the shootout, is at your side and tells you that you almost died, but because of your fighting spirit and God's grace, you pulled through. You are discharged in a few days' time and you go back to the hotel. Due to the intense media coverage of the shoot-out, the hotel management decide to give you a lifetime supply of free hotel room stays anywhere in the world at the chain's hotels. You stay at the hotel for 2 weeks free as a starter for the reward from the hotel. After that, you board a plane back to New Orleans, via Auckland, New Zealand and Los Angeles, bound for some therapeutic work to get your mind off the rapidly unfolding tragedy of your life.
Six months after returning to your work as CFO of the company, during which you slowly, but steadily, gain the full responsibilities of your position, you are at home and you get an anonymous call from someone who tells you that there's a Neo-Nazi march in Washington, DC, in 4 months' time and that you're expected to be there "or else your family won't live tomorrow morning." You acquiesce with the request, due to the threat made against your family, who's confirmed to be still alive at this time, and you board a plane for Washington, DC on the eve of the anniversary of Hitler's birthday. The next morning, you wake up in your hotel room, get dressed, eat breakfast and go to where the march is set to begin. There are scores of police and some bystanders there. In the distance, you can see the marchers approaching, one man in the front, dressed in a Second World War-era uniform, complete with a Nazi swastika armband and a vintage Nazi cap. He is carrying the Nazi flag and a man behind him, similarly dressed, is carrying a flag that has a tricolor of black, white and red, which is the flag of the German Empire, the flag that the Nazis discarded in 1935 for the Nazi flag. Two other men carry one flag each of the German eagle and the Iron Cross. The rest of the marchers are dressed in various styles of dress: some camouflage uniforms, some military fatigues, a few vintage Second World War uniforms, some paramilitary uniforms, and still others. The marchers, all armed with AK-47's slung over their shoulders and Uzis tucked in their waistbands, arrive at the stage that's set up for them and the leader of the march, a rather distinguished man who introduces himself as Rudolf Schenck, 45, from the German town of Freiburg, walks up the stairs of the stage and proceeds to give his speech in English and he finishes his speech with the German call: "Gehen Sie hervor und ändern Sie die Welt in in diesem Jahr 1990!" The marchers raise their right arms and shout: "Sieg Heil, Sieg Heil, Deutschland fur Deutscher, Auslander Raus, Deutschland uber alles!" The police shuffle, nervously, as they hear, but do not understand, the words the marchers shout and Herr Schenck goes down the stairs of the platform and leads the marchers, estimated to be about 2500 strong, to the steps of the U.S. Capitol. The marchers split in three groups and one group marches off in the direction of the White House and the other group in the direction of the Supreme Court. The one group that remains at the Capitol marches in the Rotunda and opens fire on the guards, killing all of them instantly. The group, split in two, then storm the chambers of the U.S. Senate and House of Representatives, killing the guards stationed outside the chambers. A small number of marchers, dressed up in dummy police uniforms, inform the spectators of both chambers up in the balconies, done before the other marchers storm the chambers, to leave due to the fact that there's a closed-doors session of Congress. The marchers that are dressed up in the fake uniforms then whip out their service revolvers and fire at the important people at the front of each chamber, so as a result of that, the important leadership of both chambers has been decapitated. The marchers on the ground level of the chambers lock and bar the doors, with marchers stationed outside the doors to fire on and kill any security officers and other law enforcement officers, and proceed to fire indiscriminately in the crowd and 15 long and bloody minutes later, the entire U.S. Congress is dead, all 535 members of the Congress and the Vice President of the United States, shot by expert marksmen that happened to be Neo-Nazis, along with the spectators in the balconies of both chambers of the Congress, who were executed after being led to the ground floor of the Senate and House chambers. One of the marchers is then dispatched to remove the flag of the United States and to replace that with the Nazi flag, temporarily, as subsequent events will show. The marchers all assemble on the ground levels of each chamber and survey the carnage that has been unleashed on the U.S. Congress. You are met by a terrorist, as you are now calling them, and led by gunpoint in the Capitol and led to the Senate chambers, where there's a man in a suit that tells you that your family is there with him and he shows your wife to you and then your kids and you break down completely. Finally, after over a year, you have seen your family again. The man tells you if you pay him 500,000 dollars by the end of the day, your family will be released to you. If not, they will be executed, firing-squad style. After this terrifying and disorienting news, the man says his name is Mr. Pytor Jackorowski and he saw you being shot at in Warsaw from the apartment building across the street from the hotel. So, after the talk by Mr. Jackorowski, you sign a check for 500,000 dollars at the local branch of your home bank and you wait for your family at the Capitol steps. What will happen next is anyone's guess...
If you see anything factually inaccurate with this story or want to expand or modify this story in any way, simply post a review. I'll read them and answer them as soon as I can. Thanks. --The Author