The Magician

"Fresh from the time to blow your mind files. Boss, you have an email you need to look at," said Vincent Charles Williams III, or VW, to the Great Oshin.

"Yeah, VW, what do you got?"

"Here, Boss, read this."

To: The Great Oshin From: A Dear Friend

Subject: Three DNA reports

The mother and father show no signs of abnormality. Neither does the son. No known genetic pathogens

Mother: Kasandra E. Grant, second-generation descendent of Peter the II of Yugoslavia. Father; The Great Oshin. Son: Sergey N Grant.

All scans on file at: DNA Scan Genetics

2356 Breezeway Drive

San Diego, Ca, 92110

1-619-DNA-SCAN

All queries refer to case Pat20230TGOKEGSNG

"VW, see if there is a way to verify this DNA scan. Get me everything on Kasandra E. Grant and her mother and father. And get me a location on Sergey N. Grant. I know of Peter the II, the King without a country. Known for writing bad checks, he had been banned from only the best that high society offered. Known for public intoxication, he might have an illegitimate child or two."

"Sure thing, Boss."

By 11:00 AM, VW returned to Oshin.

"Boss, this is an intern from the clinic. He wants to do a cheek swab to check your DNA. There will be an answer tomorrow. Kasandra E. Grant owns quite a few Hot Dog carts in Chicago. She is pulling in a salary like 300k and has 23 employees. She has a doctorate in business and a book coming out, How to Start a Business with a Hot Dog Cart.

Sergey N. Grant is a freelance Web page designer and app programmer. He is in his office right now. He is working on his contracts in Chicago. Get this his middle name is Nihso.

This message was left on the website. He finds the secret, but he does not see the light of our way. He dirties the Nazi ideal. He takes the holy fire but does not use it to purify, but to make money, blaspheme. You shall pay. Your fate is sealed. We leave you with this picture of Sergey with crosshairs and the date and time two days from now at twelve noon EST.

I know, find out about this website. I got it tracked through Istanbul. I am on the Dark Web. Wait, something happened. My buffers are overfilling. It's some buffer bomb. That's it. All the buffers shut down. The computer is toast. All I got was the cover of an old Nazi file marked Thumb Tack, but it's empty."

"VW, you get me, Sergey, now."

"It's ringing, Boss."

"Hello, Computer Balloons. What may I blow up for you?"

"Hello, this is the magician, The Great Oshin. May I speak to Sergey Grant?"

"This is Sergey. Is this about you being my father?"

"Sergey, why does everybody know about this but me? No, but I have some questions. I may have put your life in danger."

"Oh no, I'm afraid I put you in danger. We need to meet face to face. Too many ears on the phone you come to Chicago meet me tomorrow at 10:00 AM by the Pioneer Zephyr at the Museum of Science and Industry. I think we'll recognize each other."

Oshin stood by the Pioneer Zephyr. He had a tweed suit, a big hat, dark shades, a topcoat, and an umbrella. At 10:00, Sergey approached his father. They went to the cafeteria, got a drink, and sat down.

"As Mom says, Dad, either you make it yourself or forever be unknown. Mom is independent. I'm afraid she wanted a child, and you would be the father. She did not want you to be involved in any decisions with me, so she refused to name you until I was eighteen. She said to make something of yourself then go to you. Otherwise, it would look like I was trying to get something from you. At the end of this year, when I cleared a six-digit income. I was going to contact you. Only in checking out my heritage I uncovered a hidden Nazi spy. It was a stupid code, and it took me and the computer two days to break it. I found the microfiche files on a third type of different bomb from World War II. The Nazis knew of the great force needed to hold the Uranium together as it exploded. The longer you hold it, the better the blast. The Thin Man-style bomb failed because as soon as the wedge of Uranium was shot at the target, the explosion blew it apart. Thin Man was a dud. The Fat Man failed for the same reason. The mass tended to blow apart more pressure was needed. Hence the thumbtack. The Placing Uranium on spikes on the end of a thumbtack type device, Fifty -Six of them are suspended in a sphere on a shape charge shaped like an old-style soccer ball. The large flat head gave more surface for the pressure to implode. The result was a more compact bomb. At least in the first CADs. The size reduction is forty percent with a twenty percent increase in yield. Of course, these are all estimates done on a PC. The equations I have, done in a real computer, would be more believable."

"Great, Sergey, you have a better nuclear bomb, and someone wants it."

"Look, Dad, I had no idea that putting some old World War II spy stuff on the web to sell would get me in trouble."

"Sergey, you put this stuff on the web to sell?"

"Sure, why not? World War II was a while ago."

"Sergey, you realize that you are quoting a Nazi paper that is a redesign of the bombs dropped on Japan.

"Yeah, so?"

"There were no Nazis in Europe after the bombing of Japan."

"Duh, Dad. These papers are from South America."

"Oh, yeah, South America, real old Nazis. And you have sinned against them, and I got your picture with crosshairs and the date of tomorrow and a time of twelve noon."

"Dad, unless I give these papers to some mysterious web guy by tomorrow at 11:00 AM EST, I am dead."

"Well then, Sergey, there is only one thing to do, let them kill you."

"Gee, Dad, I was thinking of something a little less dramatic, like maybe, I don't know, giving them the stupid papers."

"And they still kill you and take the papers."

"Sergey, where are the papers?"

"They're in my safety deposit box in my bank. That's the safest place I could think to put them. I have the key on a chain around my neck. I had the key hidden in my car when someone ram-sacked my office. After that, I keep the key on me at all times."

"The only real answer is to let them kill you and take the papers. What do these papers look like?"

"They're data files. They're on a thumb drive Dad. Can we do this without they kill you part?"

"Sergey, it's up to them, but I doubt it. It's your can of worms. I know what I'd do. I'd have a Hi-Def Video double. Take the shot for me. Then I fall, when they come in to get the file, sucker punches them, and do with them as you may."

In Sergey's apartment, they set up the necessary equipment to pull off the trick. Eleven AM passed

Then Noon EST in Chicago. Through the projection to a dummy, a poison dart.

Oshin said over a radio link to his son, "Poison dart! Fall so they can get to your chest key. Don't breathe."

The Ninja came in through a window on the ninth floor without a sound. They took the safety deposit key on a chain around Sergey's neck. The Ninja also took the dart, now stuck in a pad in Sergey's shirt. The Ninja left the apartment through the window with the key without leaving a clue that they were there.

"When they load the drive, Dad, we are in their system. My virus looks like a request to update drivers to read this file. It will get passed the most rigid of firewalls and anti-virus software. By tonight we should know who these people are."

By evening it was plain this Argentinian/German was a soldier on the neo-Nazi side of a war of hate. According to his website, he was a part of a death squad dedicated to the revival of the Nazis and all they stood for. He was getting the weapon his perfect country would need to destroy the evil Jews, Blacks, Communists, Capitalists, Homosexuals, and drug users that lived in the inner cities of the World. He and his kind would be the Holy Fire that would cleanse the earth of the impure.

They already had enriched Uranium produced in secret by the old Nazis from hidden mines in Argentina. There was enough enriched yellow cake for five fat man bombs. With the Thumb Tack design, seven bombs? But these were Alpha/Omega bombs. They are to be sheathed in cobalt 59.

Targets to be Washington, Moscow, Beijing, Paris, London, Berlin, and Jerusalem. He claimed to be funded by Hitler himself. He and the squad would deliver a counterblow to wake the World and let them know that the Nazis were not dead and would still rule it. In the sewers of these cities near their government buildings, our forces have secured a place for our cleansing pyre.

They need to decide on a final design and start to get the components. They used a laptop to control the explosive lens. The method used Californium 252 as a neutron source, the cobalt sheath, shape charge, and enriched yellowcake thumbtacks. This would send a pulse of toxic cobalt through the sewers system for miles. They claim everywhere with a drain to the sewers will be a portal of death.

"Great, Dad, we've got a death squad dedicated to blowing up seven major cities with Alpha/Omega bombs. What the hell do we do?"

"This is the sort of thing that if you say anything to the FBI, you get a forever nuts file, and they never take you seriously again. They must be sorry that they decided to cross The Great Oshin."

"Well, Dad, the only real thing to do is expose them. What do we use as bait?"

"I figure the only thing many Nazis would go nuts over is Hitler. Sergey, can you make a document that shows that Hitler had something to do with this project in Argentina in 1946, and maybe an unknown picture of Hitler signing something there? A good job, you know. Something to pass the casual first glance. Something these guys will take to their grave believing."

"I would love to, Dad. At a common time of our choosing, anyone who has downloaded the file into their computer will put their dark home page on the main internet for all to read the truth of their plans and report to the local police the location of all stockpiles supplies for making their bombs. All you need to do is get them to load it onto their computers."

"I have a plan, Sergey. I'll put the document for sale on the same site as you put your secret files for sale on. I'll say, is this proof that Hitler lived after WW II? Plus, the rights to an unknown picture of Hitler. If you are selling the secrets for profit, upset them, this should set them off. Let them get the files. All of them will want an unknown picture of Hitler for their own. Then after, say, three days when everybody has had a chance to load the picture on their wallpaper on their computer, we spring our trap."

"Sergey, you get with VW and set this up."

The response was quick. VW brought a copy of the email to his boss in the weight room. Oshin wiped his face with a towel and read the note.

You dirty the ideal of the Nazis by selling off pieces of us like some sideshow spectacle. After your son, you should have learned to stay away from this sort of thing. You shall not be allowed to continue. You should turn over all your Nazi items you long to profit on to us and pray we leave you alone. Contact me at phone number NAZI GARDEN Ext. 5612.

Oshin finished his workout, then showered and got into a fresh set of clothes. He chose his favorite trick cuff links, he never used them, but they were like old friends. It was just after ten when he called the phone number.

A woman answered and said, "Yes may I help you?"

"I am the Great Oshin. I believe my call was expected."

"Just a moment, I'll connect you."

"Oshin, you can't just sell off pieces of the Reich to the highest bidder like relicts in an old church. Hitler needs to be given to the commoner. Your auction to the highest bidder ensures that the prize is hoarded and not shared. There are plans to sell the new picture of Hitler for twenty dollars a copy in the first days, which is outrageous. His image should be free to all who want it. You should give us a copy of the picture."

"Look, Mr. Whoever, I'm a reasonable man. Whoever buys the picture and memo can do what they want with them. I'm not given anything away. Until the package is sold, it sits on my desk in my office, nice and safe if you want the package bid the highest price. Goodbye."

Oshin hung up the phone, put the package on his desk, and continued with his day. At three o'clock, he left. The next day when he came into his office, the package was gone. There was no alarm, no one seen by a guard, everything as it should be, but the package was gone. I called building security. They had nothing on video, and I asked them why am I paying them? They responded with standard security. If I wanted magic security, I would have to go elsewhere.

After four days, the Nazi computers popped up, 73 of them. The police were busy. They recovered some enriched Uranium in thumbtacks. Moreover, whenever I need a computer man Sergey is it.

So, if you have a problem that requires a magic touch, you may want the Magician the Great Oshin to make your problems disappear.