Stairway to Justice
At the same time the VARYAG Wolfe Pack and Falcon Teams kills the surveillance array of the three USSR Penchene Base entry portals, Heinlen stages two truck accidents. The Simeon Khazar Synagogue that is positioned directly on top of the defunct base complex has one front driveway entrance and one rear service access. Both connect with main roads – where, unfortunately, accidents happen.
At Heinlen’s direction a super-heavy duty IVECO S-Way Frontier tractor pulling a trailer containing about 40 tons of freight veers off the main drag a block before the Synagogue entry drive and impacts three high-voltage power transformers that supply electricity to the surrounding neighborhood. Once the out-of-control truck literally carves three high-voltage transformers out of the roadside, it’s “lights out” for the Simeon Khazar Synagogue, a gas station and two multi-unit apartment buildings. Ironically, Khazars live in those very same apartment buildings and walk to “work” every day at the Synagogue. The gargantuan IVECO truck also takes out a main telephone relay box, terminating all phone connectivity and Internet modem interfaces at the Khazar “house of worship”.
At the rear of the Khazar Synagogue, another (simultaneous) drama plays out. A SCANIA 770SV8 dump truck suffers a “mechanical malfunction” and breaks down smack dab in front of the Synagogue service drive, blocking it off completely. No traffic can move in or out, just like the front. The dump truck is – allegedly – hauling poisoned, toxic soil being removed from a chemical site across town – and is, according to police, environmentally “devastating” to local population if it spills.
Local Police vehicles are on scene, directing vehicular road traffic away from the front and rear Synagogue driveways with their hazard lights flashing. Of course, Khazars immediately appear at the accident sites and complain bitterly that their Synagogue entrance and egresses are blocked. They will not be consoled and gape at the disabled trucks, angrily cursing and demanding police to “move them”. They give up and return to their Synagogue once the Police order them to disburse.
When the Khazars realize they’re blocked inside their Synagogue paradise with no power, Internet or phones for hours – it’s too late. All they can do is shit their pants and wonder what’s really going on.
Heinlen’s VARYAG Comrades find shovels and tarps down in the tunnel storeroom they’re rampaging through. Tempers and emotions are running at fever pitch. They’ve got good reason to be mad.
What of the children?
The twelve “Best and Brightest” kids they were on a mission to rescue were burned alive inside an industrial-grade combined crematory and waste incineration facility designed by Soviet Union Engineers to burn bodies as well as melt alloy for reclamation. Khazar tormentors burned their live, adolescent “evidence” – then were dispatched by the VAGYAR.
Some battled-hardened VARYAG men shoveling shards of bone and small skulls from the cavernous furnace have tears streaming down their faces as they collect tiny pieces of humanity into bags. They wonder – how can this residuum of dead children give closure to parents who even at this moment pray their little ones are still alive? Some of Heinlen’s men are reciting Christian prayers out loud – others are intoning Nordic and Slavic Pagan dirges as they work, calling upon their ancestors and the Allfather, Odin to help them avenge this apostacy against their blood. Everyone is livid – apoplectic with rage. They’re like rabid animals, tasting blood.
Heinlen is miserable and seething. He’s failed. Parents of twelve angelic stars in the firmament of our universe will never see their offspring again. He wipes his moist eyes and rubs the foul air from them. He struggles to regain his composure. His head is pounding – lately he’s been getting headaches. Bad headaches. He hasn’t had a recent checkup with his Neurologist to monitor his brain surgery post-treatment status – but he can’t think about that now. Suddenly, Xen Chen and Dirk Fremd move up beside him, gesturing that they need a word.
“Boss – we found a locked and bolted door near the back end of the work area. It’s not steel – it’s carved wood but so filthy we thought it was metallic. It’s got a symbol carved into it – a Khazar Davidic Star. We think it’s an access to the Synagogue above us. Should we blow it?”
Heinlen nods in the affirmative. Sappers make short work of the wooden portal with the Davidic Star carved into it. Splinters rain down all around them. The Hetman calls out to his VARYAG Wolfe Pack and Falcon Teams.
“WE’RE DONE HERE – WE’VE COLLECTED EVERYTHING WE CAN. CARRY IT WITH US. LET IT BE OUR INSPIRATION FOR WHAT WE ARE ABOUT TO DO. WE’RE GOING TOPSIDE. IF ANY OF YOU AREN’T IN A KILLING MOOD – STAY HERE.
WE MARCH TO ERADICATE VERMIN!! I WANT TO SEE HANDS HACKED OFF OF EVERY KHAZAR WE MEET. I WANT TO SEE ORDNANCE AND INCENDIARIES POSITIONED EVERYWHERE ON REMOTE TRIGGERS. LET THE KHAZARS ALL BLEED OUT AND BURN WHERE THEY FALL. RAISE THEIR SYNAGOGUE TO THE GROUND!!! ERASE ITS SCAR FROM OUR BLESSED SLAVIC LAND FOREVER!!! LET YOUR AXES SPEAK FOR OUR RIGHTEOUS DEAD!!!
WHOEVER WE KILLED TO GET INTO THIS STOREROOM THREW THOSE YOUNG CHILDREN INTO A FURNACE TO DESTROY EVIDENCE OF THEIR CRIMES – NOW IT’S OUR TURN!! FOR OUR FOLK!! FOR OUR BLOOD!!!
TIL’ VALHALL!!!!”
The VARYAG horde bounds up the stairs, axes in hand. There’s another door at the top of the weaving, multi-level staircase but one rifle-grenade blows it into splinters. They’re inside. VARYAG Wolfe Pack and Falcon Team members branch off in all directions and soon screams start reverberating throughout the ornate temple. A festival of hand amputations commences. The VARYAG swing their axes and mark their territory in gore. Heinlen follows his blueprint schematic to the “Holy of Holies” – the main Tabernacle where he hopes to find the Chief Rebbe – Avrom Einsbecz.
Heinlen, Xen Chen, Dirk Fremd and Per L’Enfant soon stand before a large, hand carved wooden portcullis that – literally – must be pulled upwards by winches to open. By the looks of its intricate Simeon Khazar carvings, Davidic Star and Semitic cartouches, this is the Tabernacle. Heinlen growls like an animal to the VARYAG sappers that are right behind he and his Paladins Vampyre Slayers. This is their final obstacle.
“BLOW IT!”
Once again, a deafening explosion tears through the structure, causing even more VARYAG brethren to appear out of every hallway, wielding their axes and eager to partake in whatever mayhem that is sure to follow. They cheer at the detonation and break into a thunderous, rhythmic chant –
“TIL’ VALHALL!!! TIL’ VALHALL!!! TIL’ VALHALL!!!”
Inside are ten people – all decked out in garish layered vestments and ridiculously proportioned circular bear-fur hats as big as car spare tires. The biggest, most absurd round hat is perched on an obese, bearded and batrachian-faced whale: Chief Rebbe Avrom Einsbecz. Heinlen has studied his picture. There’s no question.
A silence settles on the room. Dust and debris from the detonation filters throughout the musty air as the Chief Rebbe and nine congregants just stare at Heinlen and the VARYAG Wolfe Pack and Falcon Team men. After an almost comedic delayed interlude, the corpulent Rebbe screams out words in broken English.
‘TAKE YOUR VARYAG SCUM AND LEAVE THIS SACRED PLACE!!!”
Heinlen just fixes his stare on the fat pig and gestures to his men to take charge of the preposterously dressed minions that are standing nearby him. Finally, the Hetman speaks in a loud, but modulated tone – no small achievement given the height of his blood pressure and fury at the moment.
“YOU KNOW THE RULE: TOUCH OUR CHILDREN AND LOSE YOUR HANDS. HARM OUR CHILDREN AND BE MASSACRED.
GENTLEMEN – PROCEED”.
A VARYAG Wolfe Pack veteran named Kirill Shasznovic grabs the elbow of a Khazar wearing a spare-tire-sized fur hat and directs him to the Khazar altar – called a Bimah. Shasznovic slams the man’s hands down on its flat surface as his Khazar comrades look on in horror.
He’s the first. All others will follow.
Shasznovic whacks off the Khazar’s right hand with lightning speed. The Khazar screams hysterically, holding up his bleeding stump to the sky as if to show his God. He can’t believe what has just happened to him. He steadies himself holding on to the Bimah with his left hand. Shasznovic grabs the left hand and hacks that off, too. The Khazar screams, waiving his bloody stumps in the Rebbe’s face, like some kind of supplication gesture or prayer for aid.
Rebbe Avrom Einsbecz is unmoved. He spits at Heinlein and yells insults.
“YOUR NAZRAM FALSE GOD IS BURNING IN HELL, BOILING IN A CAULDRON FILLED WITH HUMAN FECES!!!”
Heinlen gestures to his men to axe the hands off the remaining congregants in the room. As each Khazar, in turn, takes his “place at the Bimah” and commences screaming and writhing in agony – Heinlen studies Rebbe Einsbecz’ reptilian visage and enormous sedentary girth. His face doesn’t change – it just becomes more repulsively toad-like watching each Khazar lose his hands. He’s immune to the suffering of his own Tribe. He’s an emotionless despicable cretin now presiding over a throne room swathed in blood and human sinews.
Heinlen has already decided: this Rebbe goes last. He’s the mastermind – the facilitator and orchestrator of Khazar Adrenochrome harvesting. Heinlen has a special treat for him.
The still-raging VARYAG hunters erupt into a cyclone of whirling axes, severing hands with every swipe. Andre Krejinskyz, a young VARYAG recruit collects the severed hands into an absurdly large, bear-skin Khazar hat and places the headpiece in the center of the room. He douses the hat with lighter fluid and lights it up. Khazars who are screaming at their bloody stumps – and who’ve not yet succumbed to blood loss – look on with incredulous horror as their severed hands burn inside the ridiculous headpiece.
Heinlen looks at Rebbe Einsbecz. He asks one question:
“Where is Belisarius?”
The Rebbe is defiant and uglier than ever as he croaks out his response.
“BELISARIUS IS GETTING A BLOWJOB FROM YOUR NAZARENE GOD IN HELL!!!”
Chief Sapper Commander Marko Milatovic hurries up to Heinlen and makes his report.
“All incendiaries, grenades and structural mines are synced and primed. We’ve got fifteen minutes before your Dead-Man signal sets them off. It’s gonna’ blow like Mount Vesuvius – we gotta’ move, Hetman!”
Heinlen gestures to three VARYAG Wolfe Pack veterans. They drag the huge Rebbe to the now-bloody Bimah. He twists his whale-like bulk and contorts himself in every direction while cursing and grunting like a feral hog – but to no avail. The Wolfe Pack boys slam his hands down on the Bimah and await Heinlen’s next move.
“LAST CHANCE, REBBE. WHERE IS BELASARIUS?? WHERE IS THE VAMPIRE ADRENOCHROME HARVESTER-IN-CHIEF???
Chief Rebbe Avrom Einsbecz spits in Heinlen’s face. He is incandescent with rage, convulsing in incoherent screams.
‘BELISARIUS IS BEYOND YOUR REACH, GOYIM!!! GO JOIN YOUR FAKE SAVIOR BOILING IN SHIT!!!!”
Two “WHACKS” of the Hetman’s Viking handaxe and the Rebbe’s hands drop away. VARYAG recruit Andre Krejinskyz swoops in and collects the chubby, bleeding appendages for his Bear-Skin-Hat-Hibachi. The headpiece is heaped high with the other Khazar’s hands. It’s now a blazing, sputtering and snapping fry-pot as curling human flesh cooks in its own grease deep inside. Heinlen yells at the men restraining the handless Rebbe, whose screams almost drown out the Hetman’s own orders.
“SPREAD-EAGLE HIS LEGS ACROSS THE ALTAR AND HOLD HIM THERE!!”
Two more whacks and Heinlen neuters the old bastard. His axe completely bisects the monster down through his pelvis, severing his genitalia whole into a gushing red lump of grotesque viscera. They dump his hemorrhaging, wailing carcass on the floor like the trash it is.
Time to go.
Within ten minutes every VARYAG operative is clear of the Synagogue, making their way down to the main highway where their transport is waiting. The trucks that were blocking the front and rear driveway accesses of the Khazar Temple are long gone, together with their official police cordons.
As their vehicles slowly blend on to State Highway G33, they hear an enormous explosion – and then another explosion – and yet another. The highest elevation of what used to be the USSR Pechene Adriatic Air Base – and Simeon Khazar Synagogue – soon glows in the distance. The VARYAG incendiaries and explosives have done their job. Nothing will remain except the evil that will haunt the hilltop forever.
Heinlen personally takes charge of the satchel containing the little bits of bone and skull they collected inside the Crematorium. The twelve children didn’t leave much behind. DNA tests will prove what residue belongs to what parents. Theirs’ will be a painful closure. The men don’t speak on the way back to their Headquarters in Podgorica. Their hearts are too heavy for words. For certain they will embrace their kids when they get home tonight and give thanks to their God – or Gods.
On the ride back, Josip Bruzsic, once of his young Pagan VARYAG Wolfe Packers asks Heinlen a question –
“Hetman – can you explain why the Simeon Khazars do such evil? Why do they engage in such depravity – destroying the children of others?”
Heinlen’s answer is brief but factual.
“There is a story in the Old Testament Book of Deuteronomy that even Moses refused to bless the Tribe of Simeon because they were so violent and destructive. Perhaps Moses’ rejection of them precipitated their descent into Lucifer’s abyss. Their perversion of the Mosaic faith taints all Semites.
Simon Magus told me that the “Khazars” we encounter are not even of Semitic stock. Their descendants originated in the Caucasus and only adopted Mosaic customs and religious symbology to disguise and conceal their criminal enterprises.
Are they the Old Testament Tribe of “Simeon”? Not by a mile. They are a Turkic genome – a Turkic people who stole a Levantine Abrahamic religion and warped it. Their blood is a soup of mongrelized chaos. The only thing for certain we know is that they are deceivers worshiping the Synagogue of Satan.
It is best for us to tend to our own Folk and stay clear of them.”
Heinlen’s helicopter waits at Podgorica Airport to whisk him and Xen Chen, Dirk Fremd and Per L’Enfant back to Zurich Memorial Hospital. He wants to personally fill Captain Vucic in on the events at the Khazar Synagogue – and be there to hold her when she cries. Somehow, he knows that she will cry.
*NO PART OF THIS WORK PRODUCT IS GENERATED BY AI*
Copyright, 2026 – Jon Croft
www.bogironfoundry.com
Email: vlchek1@gmail.com
