Page 7 - Tales the Maggid Never Told Me

The Herati Gambit

“And you, Colonel Von Zwitter? Your face is German but
something in your manner is not quite Prussian. I, too, cannot take
chances.”
“I have no means of allaying your suspicions.” The colonel turned
his wrists to show open palms. “As you can see, I have not drawn a
weapon, despite my doubts.”
“And why is that? Are you a pacifist?” Teramoto picked up the
pistol with a steady hand.
The German slumped, head drooping. “No. They would not trust
me with a gun. I might have shot myself.”
The Japanese withdrew the pistol, placing it in a pocket of his
jacket.
“Then you are indeed an impostor.”
Von Zwitter looked up, surprised to see the Japanese, hands
folded, smiling broadly. “Well, yes, but—”
“So am I.”
“—you could have shot me. Eh? What do you mean: so are you?”
“Permit me to introduce myself properly: I am Retsu Goh, a Nisei
American from Stockton, California.”
The German blinked and clutched his collar. “And I, I am Korbin
Nishtikstein, a Jew and a Berliner. Or was, until recently. The
Einsatzgruppen killed the rest of my family. I fled to the border but
was captured and sent to a Wehrmacht munitions factory as part of a
slave labor unit. My next destination would have been an unmarked
grave had I not been seized by a group of dissident officers in the
High Command searching for a doppelganger of Herr Von Zwitter.
They removed the Colonel at a refueling stop in North Africa and
substituted me. His body will not be found.”
Goh nodded. “My family lives, although our property was
confiscated and we were forcibly relocated to an internment camp a
few weeks after war was declared. Our citizenship effectively was
revoked. My likeness to Baron Teramoto provided me an
opportunity I could not refuse to re-establish our loyalty to the
United States. Military Intelligence told me this would be very
dangerous, possibly fatal. But it was preferable to disgrace.
Teramoto-san disappeared in Rangoon. Being a man of few words he
was easy to impersonate.”

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