The Golden Fleece Affair (From The Files Of Lady Dru Drummond Book 2)

by CW Hawes

  Dorman and Mafeking were standing by the crate and conversing in whispers. When they became aware they were the center of attention, they broke off their conversation, and Mafeking made an announcement.

  “Your attention, please. Knowing the dangerous nature of our mission, through my connections, I have secured for us a weapon of immense power. Although still in the experimental stage, I believe it will be of significant help to us in our attempt to gain the Golden Fleece. Sergeant, if your men would be so kind as to help Mr Shelsher open the crate, I will show you our Wunderwaffe.”

  Sergeant Sax ordered his men to help Dorman open the large wooden shipping crate. When the top and sides were removed, there, before us, was an odd looking machine. Mounted on caterpillar tracks was a brushed steel cylinder, with a domed top. Attached to the sides were two mechanical arms. From the top of the dome portion of the machine was a rod and attached to the rod was a device that looked something like an electric torch. The machine was taller than any of us and I guessed it to be around seven feet tall. The width of the base, from one track to the other, looked to be the same as the height. The width of the cylinder itself I estimated at five feet. It was quite the behemoth.

  Pointing to the machine, Mafeking said, “Meet Ernest. He is a Class III Wunderwaffe Roboter Selbstfahrende, or WUROS III for short. Developed by Richert und Seifert, Ernest employs the latest in particle beam weaponry: the Schiebold Röntgenkanone IV-D.”

  We were stunned. I know enough German to understand what Ernest is; namely, a self-propelled robot wonder weapon. I also know Mafeking didn’t pick this up at his local department store. Somehow he’d gotten his hands on a German secret weapon. Of course, if he was working for the Germans, his having one wouldn’t be so surprising after all.

  Finally Kit Somers voiced what was, I’m sure, on all our minds, “How the hell did you get this, Smith?”

  Mafeking had a smile on his face as wide as Europe. “Ah, my friend, as you are well aware, some stories must not be told. Unfortunately for you, this is one of them.”

  “What do you propose to do with it?” Elmer Pond asked.

  “Why, Mr Pond, I would think the answer obvious – to help us secure the Golden Fleece. Once it is in Ernest’s mechanical hands, nothing will be able to remove it. Dorman?”

  From one of his pockets, Dorman Shelsher took out a small box. He pressed a button and suddenly Ernest came alive. A glass disk I hadn’t noticed, near the top of the domed cylinder, began to glow. The rod, with the device on top, extended a couple feet out of the body of the machine. Dorman pushed a switch and Ernest began to move. The machine turned a few degrees to the left; the rod retracted a bit; the device on top swiveled slightly; a hum began rising in pitch, turned to a whine, and then a white light shot out of the electric torch looking device and hit a tree.

  The beam of light only lasted a few seconds. After it was gone, the tree was black. Its leaves had turned brown and were falling to the ground. We walked over to the once-green field maple. Branson took out a pocket knife and peeled away a strip of bark.

  “Dead,” he said.

  “You see,” Mafeking explained, “no one will be able to retrieve the fleece. The Röntgenkanone will destroy whoever makes the attempt.”

  Sergeant Sax said, “It certainly is impressive. Does Mr Shelsher have to tell it what to do?”

  Mafeking smiled. “Ernest is indeed impressive, Sergeant, and it can be programed for all manner of actions. Mr Shelsher can override and shutdown if need be, otherwise the WUROS is self-actuating. It will assess situations on its own and act according to its programming.”

  Corporal Hill muttered, “If it did that to a tree…”

  “Ah, yes, Corporal,” Mafeking said, “you would not want to see what a human looks like after being touched by the particle beam.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think I would.”

  Karl asked, “What is the propulsion unit?”

  “A flywheel system,” Mafeking answered. “The system generates electricity, which powers the WUROS.”

  “Doesn’t the flywheel eventually stop?” Branson asked.

  Mafeking answered, “When the flywheel rotations slow to a certain point, a diesel engine starts to power the wheel back up to the necessary RPMs. Barring any problems, the flywheel will operate for years once it has started.”

  This was all very amazing to me. All I could think of was we live in a truly remarkable era.

  Karl said, “We’d best be on our way. We won’t reach Zugdidi by standing here and talking.”

  Sergeant Sax laughed and said, “My kind of man.”

  We donned our backpacks, which contained a change of clothes, C-rations, ammunition, and a bedroll. The Army boys also had the four machine guns; two Browning Automatic Rifles and two Johnson Light Machine guns. Each soldier was armed with a M3 submachine gun equipped with a sound suppressor, or silencer as we lay people call them. Kit and Elmer also had suppressed M3s. Each of the rest of us was given a STEN gun, also equipped with a suppressor. Mr Hall was making sure we were ready for trouble and if it came, we’d be able to keep quiet about it.

  The professors were grumbling. I overheard Elise complaining about the weight of her pack and Franzen saying, “What the hell am I going to do with a gun?”

  Branson also apparently heard him, for he said, “Pull the trigger when trouble comes a troubling.”

  The one thing most of us welcomed was that we could now smoke and we all were, except for the three non-smokers in our group: Karl, Klara, and Elise Rodman. Even Branson, who I never saw smoke, was puffing on a cigarette. Dunyasha was on her fourth or fifth and I was tickled pink she was using her cigarette holder. Somehow, she’d also crammed the box of cigarettes I’d given her into her backpack.

  We formed a double column and began walking to Zugdidi. Leading the group was Ernest, followed by Mafeking and Dorman. Sax, two soldiers, Karl, and Branson were next. Dunyasha and I were in the back, just ahead of Hill and the two soldiers bringing up the rear of our formation.

  Everyone thought it best if Karl and I were not together, seeing we are the leaders of the non-government group, in case the unthinkable happened. I was angry. Karl and I never get to be together. I even snapped at Dunyasha when she tried to console me. And so we walked to Zugdidi in silence.

  ***

  Two hours later, we were on the outskirts of the city. A major delay occurred when we tried to cross the Enguri River. The only bridge we came across had been bombed. In its place was a pontoon bridge, which wouldn’t support Ernest’s weight. Corporal Hill and Private Milano scouted up river and found a sandbar. It supported the weight of the robot and we got across the river.

  I took in the countryside we crossed on our way to our destination. I’d seen the scene before. When I was reporting on the Italo-Yugoslav War. The only difference lay in the details. The farm fields and woods were torn up and large craters pockmarked the ground, giving the countryside a lunar cast. Burnt out military vehicles, bearing Soviet, Italian, and makeshift Georgian insignias, littered the landscape. Unburied dead lay where they fell, giving testimony to the recentness of the battle for Zugdidi.

  After losing the city to the Georgian Liberation Army, the Italians regrouped and, with German technical assistance, unleashed a furious assault. With heavy losses on both sides, the Georgians finally withdrew. That was several days ago.

  To reach the city’s outskirts we’d walked through the bombed out ruin of the airport. A long time would pass before planes would be landing there again. Now, ahead of us, lay the bombed out ruin of the city. We looked at the devastated urban skyline. The professors, who had not seen war aside from pictures, were visibly horrified by what they saw. Elise, at one point, threw up. The Army privates were a bit more stoic, but they also had not been in combat and were visibly affected. Truth be told, I think we all were touched in some manner. How can one not be? Who would not be moved to tears at the sight of young men mangled into shapeless lumps? Or the family obviou
sly shot down in the crossfire of opposing armies? Or the massive destruction inflicted on nature? It was all too horrible for words.

  Only Ernest was unmoved. His glowing eye, what did it see? What registered in his databanks? The rotating Röntgenkanone, what was it searching for? An opportunity to add to the carnage?

  I made my way to where Karl was standing.

  “Where are the Italians?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” Karl replied.

  “Do we know if they are still in control?” I asked.

  “Not absolutely,” he returned and added, “The most current information we have is five days old. Just after the Italians took Zugdidi. Mussolini controls the coast down to just south of Poti and most of the northwest province. The GLA holds the south of the country from the coast to Tiflis. The Czarists control the easternmost province and the Soviets, the northern part of the country.”

  Branson, who was standing next to Karl added, “The front lines are in a constant state of flux. Zugdidi is in a valley. The GLA is probably hiding up in the mountains all along the east side of the valley. There.” He pointed to the suspected position of the Georgians. He continued, “It’s possible the Italians pulled out of the city for a better position in the mountains to the north. Over there.” Again, he pointed to where he thought the Italian army might be.

  “Karl, do you think the contact Mr Hall has is here?”

  “I don’t know, Dru. The only way to find out is to enter the city. The Hotel Bagrationi is where he will make contact with us.”

  “Then let’s go,” I said.

  He nodded and said, “Listen, everyone. We are going into the city. Be alert. Anything is possible. Sergeant Sax, will you make sure everyone knows how to use his or her machine gun?”

  Sax said, “Yes, Sir,” and made the rounds explaining how to load, cock, and fire the weapon each person had. When he was done, we began our walk into the ruin that was Zugdidi.

  Eighteen

  Dawn Attack

  Hotel Bagrationi

  Zugdidi, Georgia

  Morning

  Sunday, 18 April 1954

  The explosion jarred me awake. Sergeant Sax was yelling orders. All was dark. Karl touched my arm to make sure I was awake.

  “We’re under mortar fire,” he said.

  A second explosion shook the ground. Karl moved off to see to the others. Dunyasha, who was next to me, was muttering in Russian. Probably cursing like a sailor. I threw off my blanket and grabbed my STEN gun, pistol, revolver, and torch.

  I looked around and didn’t see Karl. “Where’s Karl?” I asked.

  “How the hell should I know?” Dunyasha shot back. “It’s so fucking dark I can barely see you.”

  Another mortar round hit.

  “What’s that goddamn robot doing?” Dunyasha complained. “Isn’t it supposed to turn our attackers into mush or something?”

  “Let’s find Karl,” I said.

  Dunyasha was sour. She responded in Russian.

  An explosion. In the flash of light I thought I spotted him. I turned on my electric torch and called out his name. I was answered by three quick flashes of light.

  “Come on, Dunyasha.”

  “I’m behind you, Dru.”

  Cupping the torch’s beam to narrow the field of light, Dunyasha and I made out way across the rubble littered street to where Karl was crouched down.

  Another blast and pieces of brick, mortar, and concrete showered down on us.

  “Shit. That one was close,” Dunyasha said.

  “Do we know where the attackers are?” I asked Karl.

  A shell hit the already shell pocked and bombed out hotel.

  “No, not exactly,” he replied. “Sax guesses up in the mountains. Mile. Maybe mile and a half away.”

  Yesterday, when we arrived at the hotel, we found it a ruin. We set up camp in the street in front of what was left standing of the building. The back faced the mountains. Having apparently gotten the range set, the mortar rounds began falling like rain.

  Dunyasha muttered, “Goddamn it, Dru. Blown to shit in a godforsaken Soviet republic. Remember this the next time you turn me down.”

  All I could do was laugh.

  She said something. Her words, though, were drowned out by an explosion.

  Suddenly, all was quiet. Then we heard the sound of a BAR and a Johnson light machine gun. The soldiers must’ve encountered hostiles.

  “First the shelling and then the assault,” Dunyasha said.

  The other BAR and Johnson machine gun opened fire on the opposite end of the block. Whoever they were, they were attempting to get us in a pincer movement.

  “Listen,” Dunyasha said.

  Above the rapid rat-a-tat-tat of the machine guns, we heard the distinctive whine of the WUROS’s weapon.

  “Ernest is about to go into action,” I said.

  “Pity the poor devils at the other end of that particle beam,” Karl said.

  The whine crescendoed and stopped.

  Karl spoke. “Dru, Dunyasha, stay here and keep an eye on the professors and Klara. They’re over there, in that doorway. I’m going to help the soldiers. Branson’s on that end with Sax. I’ll be with Hill.” He kissed me. Right there in front of God and Dunyasha. Not a good sign.

  Ernest’s whine reached its crescendo and stopped.

  “Be careful, Karl,” I said.

  “I will.” Off he went down the block.

  Dunyasha and I made our way to the doorway where we found the professors and Klara huddled together.

  “Where’s Kit and Elmer?” I asked Klara.

  “Kit is with Sergeant Sax and Elmer is with Corporal Hill,” she replied.

  From the south end of the block came the sound of grenades. The action was heating up.

  “Now listen up, you three,” Dunyasha began, addressing the professors and Klara, “we may have to shoot our way out of here. So keep your machine guns under control by just tapping on the trigger. If you press it, you’ll lose control and shoot us instead of them. And I’m giving notice, I didn’t come all this way to be killed by friendly fire. Got it?”

  They nodded. Dunyasha made a face and pushed the muzzle of Elise’s weapon away from her direction.

  “And don’t point it at anyone unless you want them dead. Got it?”

  They nodded again.

  “Good. Because, from the sound of things, we may have company real soon and they may not be friendly.”

  There were more explosions from the south end of the block. Someone was coming in our direction. Then a second someone. Dunyasha was taking aim.

  “Wait!” I shouted. “They’re ours. Pond and Karl.”

  Then we saw Hill and Milano. Behind them, coming up the street was a half-track and its machine gun was firing. From around the back corner of the ruined hotel came Ernest, Mafeking, and Dorman. And Ernest was moving. Fast. Our guys had taken cover in the rubble to avoid the machine gun. The enemy vehicle was driving down the street. Ernest rolled over the sidewalk and out onto the street, facing the oncoming enemy. The military vehicle came to a stop. Like in a western, the two machines faced each other. The machine gun on the half-track fired first, bullets ricocheting off the curved body of the WUROS. Hum turned to whine, and then the beam of light, followed by an explosion. The open turret, containing the machine gun, was a smoking ruin.

  The enemy driver put his vehicle in reverse and began backing up. Hum, increasing to a whine, the whine terminating in a beam of light. The half-track stopped, smoke and flames billowing from the engine. The driver got out, along with a half-dozen soldiers. Our guys opened fire and we watched the attackers fall under a hail of bullets from the submachine guns.

  Then all was quiet. Karl, Elmer Pond, and the two soldiers came out from behind their cover. We also ventured out. Mafeking and Dorman joined us.

  “Isn’t Ernest marvelous?” Mafeking exclaimed.

  “Pretty impressive,” I said.

  “They had a tank and ano
ther half-track coming down out of the hills behind the hotel,” Mafeking said. He patted the robot affectionately. “Dispatched both and sent their troops packing.”

  “Who attacked us?” Dunyasha asked.

  Karl and Elmer joined us. Dunyasha repeated her question as Mafeking didn’t know and didn’t care, so pleased was he with Ernest’s performance.

  Elmer said, “GLA from the looks of it.”

  Corporal Hill and Private Milano returned with the machine guns. Private Young, however was not with them.

  Hill said, “Young was hit pretty bad. He covered us while we fell back. He didn’t make it.”

  We murmured our condolences.

  “Milano and I are going to bury him,” Hill said. Elmer volunteered to go with them to provide cover.

  Franzen said, “A shame about that boy.”

  We all were in agreement. From the north end of the block came Branson, Kit, Sax, Ajax, and Denham.

  Branson said, “I think we were lucky. The force we were facing was pretty small.”

  Sax inquired about Hill and the other two soldiers. Karl informed him Private Young had been killed and the Sergeant took off to find the burial detail.

  Mafeking said, “Sure hope your contact shows up soon, Weidner. I hate being a sitting duck. Even with Ernest, here.”

  “Now all we need are the Italians to attack us,” Dunyasha said.

  Kit Somers laughed. “My, my, aren’t you the cheerful one.”

  And as if on cue, we heard the distant roar of aircraft engines.

  “Thank you very much, Lady Bobrinsky,” Doctor Franzen said.

  Dunyasha tossed her head. “No need to thank me, Doctor. It’s how these adventures work.”

  Ernest turned towards the direction of the sound. We couldn’t see anything because buildings were in the way, bombed out though they were. Louder and louder the roar grew. Then they were over us and flew on to the hills and mountains beyond. In another minute we heard bombs exploding. The Italians were attempting to knock out the GLA hidey holes in the hills. And as long as they didn’t attack us, hopefully the bombardment would buy us time.