Tyranny of Coins (The Judas Chronicles) (Volume 5) Paperback Read Online Free Page A
Author: Aiden James
brother to Auschwitz. The son, named Simon Lieberman, carried the coin. Legend has it the Nazis missed it again—despite thorough searches and nary a place to hide a coin. Perhaps it was stored in an orifice… in the mouth or anus seems most likely. Anyway, the coin carried mysterious healing powers, as you know. A handful of survivors from these horrific death camps spoke of a magical coin that could heal, somehow feed, and protect dozens from the beatings, random shootings, fateful trips to the gas chambers, etc. They all say it glowed with a blue sheen—the same thing you and I can see in the other coins.”
I clearly pictured the excitement I felt about this coin, back when the Second World War ravished Europe and raged through the Pacific islands. Not much reached the United States from our European brothers and sisters until we were fully engaged in war as a nation. Secrets withheld from the general populace, along with whispers of atrocities that scarcely seemed real to those who had never seen such events firsthand, began seeping into America’s awareness. Of course, for me it was maddening, as I had known what was happening since September 1939. I desperately wanted to return to Europe in hopes I could save as many of my Jewish brethren as possible. I knew it would be a small amount in comparison to the eventual hundreds of thousands being put to death each month in 1943 and beyond. But it wasn’t until I feared the extinction of the bloodlines rooted in Israel that I took matters into my own hands.
This resolve initially hit me full force in the spring of 1944. The other thing to sway me was the rumor of a blood coin in its active state—a true rarity in the twentieth century, since most often I found them in moments of dormancy. Not to mention, the coin that had circulated through two Polish concentration camps was creating hope for the Jewish nation, instead of the usual calamities my coins bring.
Getting an officer commission wasn’t as easy for me as some might think. This was before the formation of the CIA, which didn’t become active until 1947. I was working in the higher circles of the FBI at the time, and was viewed as a curious dinosaur who somehow looked much younger than I was. After all, the BOI had been absorbed by the newly formed FBI in 1933.
I won’t bore everyone with the details. Suffice it to say it took me calling in a favor with Virginia Senator W. Chapman Revercomb to obtain a European field commission. I was stationed in France as a US Army captain by the fall of 1944, and had hoped to slip away to Poland long enough to find my coin and save as many prisoners as possible. But getting away from France proved arduous at best, once the fortunes of the war swung in favor of the allied forces. As the intelligence photographs from the death camps began to reach my contacts in Washington the following January, I realized it was too late for me to do anything.
The greatest atrocity known to modern man was nearing its conclusion and would soon be revealed for the diabolical horror it was. And the coin? The Nazis had recovered it by then. My same contacts in Washington talked about some excitement over a recently discovered small item that was hailed as “the greatest occult relic in possession of the Third Reich.” I clearly recall how my heart froze upon hearing this news. It was never The Almighty’s plan for the Germans to possess this coin.
“Judas. Judas…. Hey, man are you all right?”
“Huh? Oh, shit. Sorry about that, Rod.” I must’ve looked like a total ass, staring out into space while missing nearly everything Roderick said. “I got caught up in a moment of nostalgia.”
“And you missed every damned word I said!” he chided. “Tell you what…. Let’s talk about this more when the sun comes up and we can work on a plan of attack as a group.”
“Attack? I’m not liking the sound of that word,” I said, although the prospects of me holding my wife close
I clearly pictured the excitement I felt about this coin, back when the Second World War ravished Europe and raged through the Pacific islands. Not much reached the United States from our European brothers and sisters until we were fully engaged in war as a nation. Secrets withheld from the general populace, along with whispers of atrocities that scarcely seemed real to those who had never seen such events firsthand, began seeping into America’s awareness. Of course, for me it was maddening, as I had known what was happening since September 1939. I desperately wanted to return to Europe in hopes I could save as many of my Jewish brethren as possible. I knew it would be a small amount in comparison to the eventual hundreds of thousands being put to death each month in 1943 and beyond. But it wasn’t until I feared the extinction of the bloodlines rooted in Israel that I took matters into my own hands.
This resolve initially hit me full force in the spring of 1944. The other thing to sway me was the rumor of a blood coin in its active state—a true rarity in the twentieth century, since most often I found them in moments of dormancy. Not to mention, the coin that had circulated through two Polish concentration camps was creating hope for the Jewish nation, instead of the usual calamities my coins bring.
Getting an officer commission wasn’t as easy for me as some might think. This was before the formation of the CIA, which didn’t become active until 1947. I was working in the higher circles of the FBI at the time, and was viewed as a curious dinosaur who somehow looked much younger than I was. After all, the BOI had been absorbed by the newly formed FBI in 1933.
I won’t bore everyone with the details. Suffice it to say it took me calling in a favor with Virginia Senator W. Chapman Revercomb to obtain a European field commission. I was stationed in France as a US Army captain by the fall of 1944, and had hoped to slip away to Poland long enough to find my coin and save as many prisoners as possible. But getting away from France proved arduous at best, once the fortunes of the war swung in favor of the allied forces. As the intelligence photographs from the death camps began to reach my contacts in Washington the following January, I realized it was too late for me to do anything.
The greatest atrocity known to modern man was nearing its conclusion and would soon be revealed for the diabolical horror it was. And the coin? The Nazis had recovered it by then. My same contacts in Washington talked about some excitement over a recently discovered small item that was hailed as “the greatest occult relic in possession of the Third Reich.” I clearly recall how my heart froze upon hearing this news. It was never The Almighty’s plan for the Germans to possess this coin.
“Judas. Judas…. Hey, man are you all right?”
“Huh? Oh, shit. Sorry about that, Rod.” I must’ve looked like a total ass, staring out into space while missing nearly everything Roderick said. “I got caught up in a moment of nostalgia.”
“And you missed every damned word I said!” he chided. “Tell you what…. Let’s talk about this more when the sun comes up and we can work on a plan of attack as a group.”
“Attack? I’m not liking the sound of that word,” I said, although the prospects of me holding my wife close
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