by Paul Lally
‘Something the professor could do?’
Mason smiled. ‘He’s a nuclear physicist, what do you think?’
‘Right.’
I decided that if we ran into fog, Orlando would help him out. I didn’t want to abandon our engineering station in the middle of a bomb run, but I had to play with the cards I was dealt, and at this point I was barely holding two pair.
I got on the intercom and told Orlando to meet me at the bomb bay to practice installing the parachute. I hoped Ava was wrong about the ground fog, but something told me she could be right. The weather patterns on the eastern slope of the Cascades were generally on the dry side. But if the ground temperature got close enough to the dew point, fog would roll in like a grey blanket.
I passed from one dimly-lit compartment to the next, each stripped of its long-ago, luxurious fittings. Missing too, were the wealthy, spoiled, overwrought, anxious, demanding, and often imperious passengers who occupied these berths. In their place was a haunted, three-engine, flying machine, leaking gas, and filled with a handful of frightened but determined people, led by an equally frightened and determined captain who was 99.999% sure everybody on board was on the up and up.
I stopped midway and peered out the starboard window to examine the trailing edge of the starboard sponson. My flashlight beam played over the duralumin trailing edge. Impossible to see the steadily escaping fuel.
Orlando’s voice startled me. ‘Don’t worry, Sam, we got enough to make it.’
‘To the target, maybe, but we’ve still have to cross the Cascades and make it to the ocean.’
‘You’re really going to scuttle her?’
‘Got another way to hide the murder weapon?’
He shook his head. ‘Lots of moving pieces in this puzzle, that’s for sure.’
‘Too many.’
‘Not for a Master of Flying Boats like you.’
I laughed at the thought. ‘Wearing cowboy boots.’
Moments later, we came upon the professor, as occupied with his bomb as Mason had been with his bombsight. A small, flat red leather roll- out tool kit filled with hex wrenches was spread out beside him. An oscilloscope and some other kind of strange electrical measuring device rested on a small shelf built into the fuselage wall. A bundled cable snaked out from the instruments to a point midpoint on the bomb where it was plugged in. A continuously moving line squiggled across the oscilloscope’s single green eye, accompanied by a small beeping sound, almost like a heartbeat.
Beads of sweat covered the professor’s bald head, but his hands moved with calm deliberation as he continued attaching the bomb’s nose housing. He glanced up briefly, noted our presence with a tight nod, and then returned to his labors.
Nothing I had to say at the moment could match the importance of what he was doing, so I kept my big mouth shut and let him finish the job in silence. The roar of the engines seemed louder back here, when the opposite should have been true, seeing as how we were in the next to the last compartment of the plane. It may have been because the bomb bay doors were not a perfect fit.
The professor finished tightening the last screw, stood up, checked the monitoring instruments one last time, and wiped his sweaty hands on his pants.
‘It is ready to deploy.’
I waited until he disconnected the monitoring cable before introducing the idea of the parachute delivery option. His eyes glazed over early on at the specifics, so I kept it short and sweet.
‘If we need to do it, Orlando will install it. Won’t take but a minute or so, right?’
‘Easy as pie.’
The professor nodded. ‘I will need to re-calibrate the device.’
‘How long will that take?’
‘It’s merely a matter of changing the impact data and re-loading it into the device with this.’ He lifted the monitoring cable like a rattlesnake. I was about to say something positive to promote crew solidarity when the small loudspeaker on the bulkhead came to life.
‘Sam, get back here right now.’ Ava’s voice sounded calm, collected, but ominous, too.
I keyed the talk switch. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Bring everybody. Hurry.’
‘Everybody?’
‘You heard me.’
As the three of us hurried back through the plane, my mind tried to land on a specific problem so as to deal with it in advance: engine trouble? No, they sounded fine. Control problem? No, flying straight and level. Why’d she say ‘all’ of us? I took the crew stairs two at a time, Orlando pounding right behind me. Around and up and through the already opened hatch, and I instinctively turned toward the cockpit and saw Ava’s angry face staring not at me but at something behind me.
Orlando and the professor obscured my vision for a brief moment, but when they moved, there sat a wide-eyed Mason at his Engineer station, Ziggy next to him, equally wide-eyed, and two other men standing on either side of the opened rear bulkhead door.
I recognized Bauer, wearing his long, grey leather jacket. The other I didn’t know by name, but had seen trained apes like him wearing the black Kampfschwimmer uniforms the night they attacked Couba Island.
‘Inspector,’ I said. ‘Of all places.’
He nodded slightly and smiled. ‘Nicely put, captain.’
‘Who’s your goon friend?’
The soldier swung around his sub-machine gun and aimed it at my chest. ‘You will be silent.’
I took a step forward. ‘Like hell I will. I’m the captain of this aircraft. Put that gun down now, that’s an order!’
Bauer shook his fat little head. ‘Hauptman Eiger and I do not contest your leadership position. In fact, we commend you on how masterfully you have performed your duties thus far.’
‘What the hell are you doing on my aircraft?’ I finally managed to get out. ‘And how did you get here?’
Silence. Just the muted roar of the engines and the hiss of the slipstream outside the navigation window.
Bauer finally spoke. ‘We are here to recover stolen property that rightfully belongs to the Third Reich. And to apprehend the man who perpetrated the theft; namely Herr Doktor Professor Friedman.’ He clicked his heels slightly and said,’ Gruss Gott, Herr Doktor.’
Friedman took a step backwards, Orlando half-hid him with his bulk.
‘It’s a pity we didn’t succeed in Lisbon,’ Bauer continued. ‘You could have been spared...’ he waved a pudgy hand around the flight deck. ‘All this adventuresome effort.’
I said, ‘Where the hell were you hiding?’
‘Thanks to Mr. Ziegler, we have been enjoying excellent accommodations in your crew relief quarters ever since you left Couba Island.’
‘Ziggy!’ Ava shouted.
The little weasel, his face a mixture of defiance and fear took a half-step towards Bauer.
‘I had to.’
‘You slimy bastard.’ Her voice broke slightly. ‘You’ve been in on this all along?’
He hunched his shoulders as if struck. ‘I’m sorry. I really I am.’
Bauer intervened. ‘He’s telling the truth, Miss James. We have benefitted from Mr. Ziegler’s information ever since Key West. Or course, I had already met Captain Carter earlier in Washington D.C. and learned of the Sons of Liberty’s interest in retaining his services for this mission of yours, ill-starred as it now has become. In fact…’
Without warning, Mason lunged toward the German commando, hands clawing for his machine gun.
Orlando moved almost as quickly, but Bauer beat them both to the punch with a swift parrying move and a sharp, vicious karate chop on Mason’s neck. He crumpled to the floor, unconscious.
The Kampfschwimmer buried the gun barrel into Orlando’s chest. ‘Move and die,’ he said, his eyes coal-black and empty.
‘Trust me, you will indeed,’ Bauer said, unperturbed and calm, as if nothing had happened. ‘As I was saying before your crewmember’s heroic gesture - oh don’t worry, he’ll wake up with a sore neck, but not much else - anyhow, let me
come directly to the point, Captain Carter.’
He drew himself up to seem more officious than he already was. ‘As a sworn agent of the Third Reich, I hereby order you to fly this plane to the designated target area and thereupon land on the Columbia River. We will take Doktor Friedman and his bomb into custody, and then the rest of you are free to go.’
I considered his statement. ‘And if I refuse?’
‘You have no choice in this matter.’
‘The hell I don’t. This is my airplane, and I’m the captain.’
‘I’m not debating that, I’m simply telling you your new orders. Now get on with them.’
Ava’s voice was sad. ‘Why’d you do it, Ziggy?’
He looked down, unable to speak. At least the little shit had the common decency to be ashamed. Then he said softly, ‘They know all about me.’
‘You mean…’
He nodded. ‘And if I didn’t tell them what they wanted, they’d tell the world about...about...’ he faltered.
Bauer slid in smoothly. ‘As you well know, Miss James, but I assure you
Hollywood does not - as yet, Mr. Ziegler is a bona fide, full time, practicing homosexual. Should your town of tinsel find out that dark little fact, his job prospects would be ruined. Am I correct, Mr. Ziegler?’
Ziggy barely nodded.
‘I believe the expression is, ‘You’ll never work in this town again,’ correct?’
Ziggy glanced at me, then away.
Bauer wouldn’t let up. ‘Of course, if he had this same ‘condition’ in Germany, the consequences would be far more dire. Der Führer frowns on those who do not fit his Aryan ideal. So, all in all, consider yourself lucky, Herr Ziegler. Because of your loyal service to the Third Reich, your deep dark secret remains safe with us, and with your friends here, too, of course.’
Ava said coldly. ‘You sold us out to keep your damn JOB?’
Ziggy shook his head. ‘My grandparents. Trying to get out of Germany. They said they’d throw them in the concentration camps if I didn’t cooperate.’
Bauer looked oddly pleased at this revelation. ‘To use one of your flying expressions, captain, this was our ‘alternate runway.’ Had Herr Ziegler decided not to cooperate with us, I assured him that his grandparents would die in the camps. But if he did assist us, Berlin would issue them exit visas. I don’t want to boast, but I think the double threat worked out quite well. So much so that I have already processed the paperwork for their visas. I should think they will be arriving safe and sound in American in two weeks’ time to reunite with their loving grandson.’
I said to Ziggy, ‘When you two were together in Horta. You were in on it then, right?’
Ziggy nodded.
I turned to Bauer. ‘I assume your people at Hanford know we’re coming.’
He smiled. ‘Of course they do. While Herr Ziegler was on watch last night on Lake Mead, Hauptman Eiger used your radio to send the alert before he ripped out the cables - with his bare hands incidentally. Quite a feat.’
I said, ‘You know, for a fat, dumpy, harmless-looking Gestapo detective, you are one hardworking, heartless son-of-a-bitch.’
‘Only when on duty, when I’m chopping heroes like Lieutenant Mason on their necks or threatening little queers like Mr. Ziegler. Off duty, I am a family man, much like you.’
I had already made up my mind what I wanted to say, but somehow what he just said was the icing on a cake that I wanted to throw in his face.
‘Mister, you can stuff this whole game of yours up your ass with peanuts on it.’
Bauer’s ever-placid face twitched slightly. ‘By that you mean…’
‘I mean you can’t land this plane without me. And I refuse to do so. You can shoot me, but you’ll still be out of luck. Nobody here can get this bucket of bolts down in one piece. We’ll all die. I’ll just be dead a little sooner, that’s all.’
‘But Miss James...’
She laughed. ‘Are you kidding? I can handle straight and level, pal, but landing this monster? Find somebody else.’
I said, ‘Now, this is the part in the movie where your Nazi goon says, ‘I am multi-engine rated on seaplanes, Herr Bauer, stand aside.’ Right? Go ahead and say it, Hauptmann.’
A long silence. Both men looked like idiots. Ava said softly, ‘Mexican
Standoff anybody?’
Bauer smiled. ‘It seems we have reached one indeed. You have your ‘gun,’ so to speak, captain, and I have mine thanks to Herr Ziegler. And Hauptmann? He has a real one. None of us wants to surrender. So what shall we do?’
‘You tell me.’
He reached inside his leather coat pocket, I tensed and he paused.
‘Don’t worry, it’s not a gun.’ He took out an envelope and handed it to me.
‘Please open it. I will be interested in your reaction.’
Two small black-and-white photographs: Abby sitting in a chair in an empty room, hair tousled, and lips pressed in a thin line of worry and her frightened eyes as big as saucers. The other photo, she and my mother, Rosie on a shabby couch, arms around each other, their knees touching, and their wide eyes staring at something just beyond camera range.
‘As you can see, your family misses you,’ Bauer said. ‘Land this plane, let us have Doctor Friedman and the bomb, and you can have your family back.’
‘Where are they, damn it?’
‘Safe and sound in Key West. But if you don’t cooperate, I can’t be held responsible for what will happen next.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘They’ll be killed, of course.’
‘You bastard...’
‘Orders, captain. I have mine and you have yours. Mine are to stop this plane from completing its mission, no matter the cost. I suggest you help me by complying. The choice is yours, of course. But I should think losing your wife and infant son was hard enough. To lose little Abby and your mother would be tragic beyond belief - at least to me.
‘But perhaps I have overestimated you all along. Perhaps you are not a sensitive family man trying to put his broken family back together again. Nein, you are made of much sterner stuff, Ja? Willing to let innocent people die for the sake of principle. I salute your iron will. As does Der Führer.’
I handed the photographs to Orlando, who shook his head slowly, like an ox bemoaning something unspeakable.
Bauer stood there, leather jacket and all, with his bullet-headed henchman beside him, master of the situation, every contingency planned, every ‘i’ dotted, every ‘t’ crossed.
I felt like I did when Pop used to beat me in chess; that painful moment where after evaluating every conceivable escape route for my king, I was forced to reach out and tip my king to the board in defeat.
‘Deal,’ I finally managed to say, then turned and slowly walked toward the cockpit.
Bauer called out after me, ‘A wise choice, captain. Not a pleasant one I’m sure, what with your patriotism and desire to right the wrong with your comrades in arms here. But Abby will thank you one day when she is all grown up and has a family of her own. She will thank you for her life.’
I turned around and came back. ‘No she won’t. She’ll ask me why I didn’t keep my word. Why I didn’t act on my beliefs, why I didn’t fight you and your Nazi goons to the very end.’
He seemed amused at this. ‘And what will be your answer?’
I exchanged a quick glance with Orlando. He nodded imperceptibly.
‘Well?’ Bauer pressed.
‘I will tell her that I failed her, failed my friends, and failed my country.’
He made a face. ‘A most painful confession.’
‘Could you do the same if you were in my place?’
He deliberated for a while. ‘I don’t think I could.’
‘Well, you know something? Neither can I.’
I slammed my fist into Bauer’s stomach as hard as I could. The fat gave way to bone and I felt something crunch, and a sharp pain in my wrist, but Bauer’s explosive grun
t made it worthwhile. At the same instant, Orlando ripped Hauptman’s gun away, but not before it went off in a spray of bullets, and the flight deck filled with the haze of gunpowder.
I wrestled Bauer to the floor, Ziggy beside me, pounding on Bauer’s face, half-crying, half-shouting, ‘Bastard, bastard, bastard’ while the detective squirmed and twisted, trying to get at something inside his coat.
I tried to shove Ziggy out of the way and pin down Bauer’s arms but got tangled up and somehow Ziggy got between me and him.
Two quick shots.
Ziggy’s body jerked as he screamed. I dove for Bauer’s Luger as it swung toward me. My hands closed around his thick wrist, stunned at his strength. Iron muscle beneath that fat and fighting me hard, his breath hot on my face as I rolled on top of him.
Shouting sounds. Orlando’s booming roar, the thump of bodies falling as Bauer and I fought for control of the gun. He twisted around and rolled on top of me. I clamped my hands on the barrel pointed straight at me, his face contorted in rage, teeth bared like an animal, eyes slits, and then from out of nowhere Ava’s arm snaked around his neck and yanked back.
The pistol wavered in momentary surprise, I twisted it up and backwards until the barrel dug into Bauer’s double chin. My thumb scrabbled on top of his trigger finger and yanked. Ava screamed and ducked as the top of Bauer’s skull left the rest of his head in a spray of blood and brains and hopes and dreams.
The steady drone of the engines returned. Orlando, machine gun in hand, stood over the Kampfschwimmer’s body, his legs awkwardly twisted like a rag doll dropped on the floor. Professor Friedman slumped in the captain’s conference chair, a stunned witness to what had just happened.
Mason rose up on one elbow and said, ‘Jesus.’
Orlando kicked the Kampfschwimmer’s body and said, ‘Amen to that.’
Ava cradled Ziggy’s head in her lap, while stroking his forehead as he struggled to breathe.
‘I was wrong,’ he moaned.
‘Shut up, and live, okay?’
He shook his head. ‘Doesn’t hurt. Bad sign, right?’
‘Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped.’
‘Wanted to, but…. too late.’