Page 5 - Tales the Maggid Never Told Me

The Herati Gambit

Dazed and confused, the Italian pilot struggled to regain his senses.
Before him was the smashed instrument panel of his Caproni CA148
military transport plane. A minute earlier, after the ship had reached
altitude, he had been radioing his base when the two foreign
passengers had appeared behind him in the cockpit, pointed pistols at
his head, seized the microphone and shouted frantically into it in
German and Japanese—languages he did not understand. Then one
of them had cracked him on the skull. He was unable to control his
aircraft. There could be but one outcome, the result of events set in
motion earlier that day…

…the Japanese representative had already arrived and was sitting
quietly at a plain wooden table, a document carrying case next to his
folded hands. A knock at the door of the small windowless room was
followed by the entrance of the German envoy, ushered in by an
Italian officer. The newcomer saluted stiffly. His opposite number
rose from his seat and bowed. The two men sized each other up
while the German took the chair across from the Japanese, next to an
identical document box. The escort left the room, closing the door.
“Sprachen ze Deutcshe?” asked the German.
The Japanese was silent for few moments. “Nihongo ga wakarimasu-
ka?”
The German frowned. “I speak a little English. Can you?”
“Yes.”
Both men glanced at the locked containers.
“Unfortunately we must communicate in the language of our
enemy. I am Colonel Von Zwitter,” said the German. “Do you need
further identification?”
“No. I’m Baron Teramoto. Our keys ought to be sufficient proof.”
“Ach. That is so. Here is mine.” Von Zwitter fumbled in the
pocket of his black leather flight jacket, extracting a ring of two keys.
He studied them intently, then removed one and shoved it across the
table. Teramoto already had his set in hand, smoothly separating one

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