The Dead Alone (Empires Lost Book 3)
Page 82
“We’re gonna withdraw carefully toward the beach, then leg it back to the others…” he decided eventually, Eileen nodding in complete acceptance of his decision. “With any luck, the fire will bugger their night vision long enough for us to slip away unnoticed. This is where we need to leave you blokes,” he added, turning his gaze toward Ritter. “Dunno if it’d look real good for you to be seen talking to us.”
“Then stand not upon the order of your going,” Ritter nodded, not even sure himself why he’d chosen to quote Shakespeare in that tense moment. “Just go…!”
But it was already too late. Even as he spoke those words, there was the soft crump of a mortar somewhere in the distance off to the north-east, followed soon after by several more. Directly overhead, three star shells burst into brilliant life, the parachute flares they deployed far more powerful and longer-lasting that the small unit fired from Langdale’s grenade launcher earlier. Between them, they lit up huge swathes of the beach and jungle, coating the entire area in those strange, woozy shadows that swung back and forth with the vagaries of the flares in the breeze as they began their downward descent.
“Mal, get out of there…!” Lloyd bellowed immediately into the microphone, his reaction one of complete instinct. “Get to the rendezvous and report…!”
Another brace of mortars discharged somewhere off to the north, but this time there was no attempt at further illumination. Behind them on the track, quite close to where Langdale and the others had been waiting, a cluster of shells detonated almost simultaneously, throwing huge fountains of earth and sand into the air as they exploded in flashes of flame and shrapnel. Automatic fire followed close behind it; the sharp, stuttering rattle of Japanese submachine guns followed by the deeper, louder roar of assault rifles and the hammer of medium machine guns from both sides.
“Victoria…!” Watson screamed in desperate terror, all thoughts of his patient forgotten as he leaped to his feet and made to charge directly toward the sounds of battle. “Victoria…!”
Lloyd was moving in an instant, diving across the intervening space between them and hitting the doctor with a perfect flying tackle that brought them both tumbling to the ground in a heap just seconds before a machine gun opened up on their right, filling the air over their heads with streams of deadly tracer that slashed through trees and undergrowth alike and sprayed everyone with torn leaves and stinging chunks of wood blasted from the trunks themselves.
“My little girl… my little girl…!”
“Shut up, you mad bastard or you’ll kill us all!” Lloyd snarled, battling to hold the man down with all his strength.
“Mal, do you read me…?” Eileen called with her own radio, moving across to the struggling pair at a crouch as Watson continued to struggle.
“Reading you, captain…” his reply came back instantly, the crackle of fire and explosions in the background echoing those they were already hearing around them. “Taking heavy fire from right around our frontal arc and to the north… four down already and two wounded… they’ve managed to get in between us… I – I don’t think we can get to you… sorry…”
“Understood, sergeant,” Donelson nodded, inwardly cursing the situation. “Do you have the Watson girl there?”
“Safe here with me¸ ma’am,” the answer came back, and only then did the doctor truly stop fighting to get free.
“Well done, Mal: do your best to keep her that way. Take her and everyone you have left and make for the rendezvous… we’ll be along shortly if we’re able, and if not…” she grimaced “…well, there’s no point in all of us copping it. Donelson out…”
“Understood, Eileen…” Langdale answered after a moment’s hesitation, clearly unwilling to abandon them. “Sorry again… and good luck… Langdale out…”
“Are we done now, Doctor Watson?” She asked sharply, taking him by the shirt front and dragging his face roughly toward hers as Lloyd finally slid off him.
“My daughter…” he moaned, sobbing now in his hysteria.
“Are… we… done…?” She shouted this time into his face at a distance of just a foot or so, shaking him at the same time. “You being dead won’t help her, mister, so I’ll ask you again… are we done…?”
“Aye, damn you… I’ll… I’ll be all right,” he managed finally, grasping her hand roughly and dragging it away from his collar in disgust. “I’ll be all right.”
“Then make sure of it, doctor: we’ve enough trouble without worrying about you as well.”
Something small and clearly heavy crashed through the leaves overhead, sailing straight past them and into the burning undergrowth near the flickering bonfire that had been the 4WD.
“Grenade…!” Lloyd howled instantly, again throwing himself forward and this time forcing both Watson and Donelson to the ground as it detonated, sending vicious fragments whizzing past overhead.
Although no one was struck, the concussion from the blast left everyone a little stunned, their ears ringing. Struggling to clear his head, Lloyd rolled off the other two and searched vainly for where his rifle had fallen as a second grenade thudded into the clearing not far away, this one rolling right up to where a horrified Ritter also lay prone, taking cover. Without even thinking about it, he immediately swept the horrid little thing up in one fist and tossed it back the way it had come with all the strength he could muster. It exploded just a second or two later, the screams that followed little consolation as at least half a dozen submachine gun-armed Japanese soldiers charged into the clearing in the moments that followed, weapons at the ready and screaming blue murder.
Evan Lloyd had barely laid a hand on his fallen rifle as it was kicked away from him, a second kick from another finding his side and sending him rolling away with a bellow of pain and surprise. His assailant followed eagerly, continuing to rain blows down on him until he was beaten and knocked half senseless, cowering in a ball on the hard ground. His radio and headset fell away at the same time, scattered about the hard ground and quickly crushed underfoot.
Donelson instantly rose to his defence, reaching for the pistol at her belt, only to also be knocked down by an unexpected blow to the back of her head that sent her sprawling beside Lloyd in an agonised daze. Although she appeared to be incapable of any resistance as he removed her pistol from its holster, her attacker gave her a kick to the stomach just to be sure, winding her badly and forcing a breathless cry from her lips. Watson fared no better, and he too was left bleeding and battered within the space of a few seconds as more troopers began to cluster around them, seeking an opportunity to join in the fun.
Incensed and enraged over their treatment of Donelson and the others, Ritter lost all reason for a moment and made to raise his own weapon, snapping back its toggle lock and levering a round into the chamber as he aimed it at the head of the nearest soldier.
“That shot will be the last thing you ever see or hear, Herr Oberst…!”
That shouted warning came from his right, the only part of it that broke his rage and concentration being that it had been spoken in clear and quite passable German. Approaching from that direction at a jog and accompanied by a trio of his own men, Hasegawa locked eyes with Ritter the moment the man turned in his direction, the pistol also unconsciously turning with him.
“Put that down now, sir, or I shall not be able to control my men…” he added, also in German, before barking a string of commands in Japanese at the troopers already present.
Before Ritter could react, he was grabbed from the side and forced onto his knees on the ground, the Luger snatched from his grasp in an instant. Although none of the men that surrounded him there actually made any move to assault him in any way, he could tell by the looks on their faces that it was a very near run thing. The muzzles of the weapons also pointed at him clearly made any further resistance futile at that point as the rage began to clear from his mind, quickly supplanted by fear and shock as the initial adrenalin surge receded.
“What is the meaning of thi
s?” He spluttered with as much indignation as he could muster, well aware that his tone made the whole thing barely convincing.
“The meaning of this is that you also are all now under the ‘protection’ of The Emperor!” Hasegawa explained archly as he drew nearer, an unsheathed sword in his right hand that he waved about as emphasis for his words as he wandered over in the German’s direction. That he was speaking quite fluent German was an even greater shock as the realisation sunk in.
“You would dare treat your most powerful ally in this manner?” Ritter forged on, drawing on all of his experience as a member of the German officer corps as he tried to sound almost imperious in his disdain.
“The very same ‘most powerful ally’ that has been lying to us…” Hasegawa shot back with a thin smile, not having any of it as he drew up before the pilot, standing almost to the same height. “We are well aware that Reichsmarschall Reuters had no intention of allowing us to keep those weapons, had it been in his power to prevent their delivery, and the general was also aware that the only reason you have come with us to Ambon at all was in some vain hope that an opportunity might present itself to sabotage our plans.” He almost gave a soft snort of laughter at that point. “This charade has been continued for one purpose only: to delay any response from your own government until such time as this small campaign was over and we were sure that the remaining device was safely in our hands.”
“Harm any of us, and you risk war with Grossdeutschland!” Ritter suspected that this was a long bow to draw – in his case, at least – but it might well be true for Schiller and would almost certainly be the case if Reuters were to be hurt in any way.
“‘Harm you’…?” Hasegawa seemed almost genuinely surprised. “What possible reason could we have for harming you? You are our ‘trusted allies’,” he explained, mostly managing to keep the sneer out of his tone. “You also undoubtedly possess information that may prove of great use to the Empire. In a few days’ time – once the rest of the mopping up has been done here – you will all be transported back to Palau by ship and then on to Tokyo. In time, you will surely be returned to your own country. These creatures, however…” he continued “…will be afforded no such luxury.”
It was then that Hasegawa first gave some serious attention to Schiller, still lying flat on the ground but now openly conscious and regarding the officer with an expression that fell halfway between agony and outright fury.
“Which one of you did this…?” He shouted angrily, pointing the sword at Schiller now as he cast wild eyes about the area suddenly filled with terrified faces. “Which incompetent dog fired on this German officer? Tell me now that I might save you the agony of a slow death!”
“The generaloberst was injured when our vehicle exploded,” Ritter explained tiredly, slumping back against a palm and sliding to the ground, suddenly feeling very tired. “We were ambushed by the Australians. That man there…” he added, pointing at a battered John Watson “…is a medic: he was trying to save him when you attacked.”
“Then I see no reason to stop,” Hasegawa observed pointedly, switching effortlessly to English for the benefit of the other prisoners present. “You there... doctor…! Continue your care for this man! If he dies, so do you.” He added coldly, with as little emotion or interest as one might’ve used to dismiss a boring novel.
As Watson moved across to Schiller with as much speed as his bruised body would permit, one of the enlisted men rifling through the Australians’ backpacks suddenly gave a victory cry and raised his hand high.
“Shōsa-sama…! A packet of papers, just as you advised!”
“Bring them to me!” Hasegawa ordered, taking a few steps in that direction as the private hurried over, bowing stiffly as he presented the plastic-wrapped scientific documents to the superior officer. “Very good, private…!” He added, examining the pack without opening it. “Very good indeed…! Exactly what we have been searching for…”
He turned on his heels, documents in one hand and sword in the other, and took a few steps toward Lloyd and Donelson, standing over them as they stared back, Eileen returning his gaze with a mixture of fear and defiance and Evan displaying nothing but unadulterated rage, barely held in check by the overwhelming reality of their situation.
“The doctor comes with the wounded German,” Hasegawa declared as he matched their stares with an impassive lack of emotion. “The gaijin woman also comes with us to Tan Tui. This…” he added, dipping his sword point momentarily toward Lloyd “…we have no use for: it can be sent back to Soewakoda with the rest of the prisoners taken at Laha. Two men… take him now…”
A pair of troopers stepped forward instantly, taking Lloyd roughly by the arms and hauling him to his feet. He struggled to begin with, attempting to shrug them off, and received a blow to the side of his head from the fore-grip of a submachine gun for his troubles than sent him sprawling to the ground again.
“You fuckin’ leave him alone…!” Eileen bellowed, fury overcoming her fear at that moment.
Springing to her feet, she launched herself at one of his assailants, only to be blindsided for a second time that night. Hasegawa had been expecting the move, and in one deft movement he reversed his sword and smashed its pommel sharply against the side of her head as she passed, felling her instantly.
“That was just to stun…!” He roared in English at Lloyd, the man glaring up at him from the ground through hands clasped to his head because of the pain. “Resist them again and I will skewer her!”
To back up his threat, he took a step forward and placed the tip of the sword at Donelson’s throat, forcing her slowly onto her back until she could retreat no further, the point drawing blood and a strangled whimper of abject terror in response. Stunned and overcome by the pain as he in any case was, Lloyd this time gave no resistance as they dragged him away, a broken look of outright failure on his face as he disappeared from view.
“Get the trucks up here now!” Hasegawa barked crisply, turning his back on a gasping Donelson and walking away as if she were immediately forgotten. “We need this one and the doctor taken back to the hospital at Tan Tui immediately. If this man dies because of your incompetence, I will see every one of you committing seppuku before the next sun rises… not that any of you uncultured pigs would be worthy of such an act!”
A pair of medics were sourced from somewhere to the rear, and within moments they’d arrived and were assisting Watson with the task of carefully shifting the moaning Schiller onto a wooden-framed, canvas stretcher. Lifting him between them, they moved slowly away toward the track with Watson in tow, the man continually turning his head this way and that as if he might somehow catch sight of his only daughter. A pair of troopers following on behind ensured any thought of escape was well and truly banished from his mind.
“Squad leader: assign a detail each to escort the German and the whore…” Hasegawa continued. “Make sure they arrive in one piece…” He paused for a moment, as if considering something as a faint smile flickered across his face, then added: “…anything else you do, I care nothing for!”
There was a burst of shouting all around as two groups were organised. Two men moved in on Eileen, hauling her to her feet and holding her firmly as a third slipped a double-thickness of lanyard over her head and around her throat. She managed to get her fingers beneath the cord just as it drew closed, but it was tight enough all the same to constrict her breathing somewhat and leave her unable to struggle, most of her energy otherwise engaged in keeping some kind of grip on the rope and in gasping for air.
Taking the opportunity while she was restrained and defenceless, one of the privates proceeded to make a show of searching her person, presumably any for hidden weapons. The lascivious grin on both their faces gave evidence to the real reason for their wayward hands however, and she tried to writhe away from them to begin with, only to be brought sharply back under control by a sudden jerk and further tightening of the cord about her still-bleeding throat.
A sharp, solid jab to her belly with a closed fist winded her again, silencing her cries for a time being as they finished their sordid exploration. Deciding they were finally finished with searching her body, the pair proceeded to rifle through her discarded backpack, tossing the contents all about as they rummaged about for anything of value.
Ritter had been halfway to his feet, preparing to intervene, as a similar length of cord was unexpectedly slipped over his own head also, and he too was dragged backward by the throat. Stronger than Donelson and willing to take a risk on it being less likely his would-be captors would do him harm, he managed to get his arms back over his head and get a solid grasp on the rope-holder’s helmet with both hands. Taking a 50/50 chance on the position of the chin strap, he hauled his arms upward with all the strength he could muster.
Fortune was with him – momentarily – and he discovered that the man’s chin strap was indeed positioned beneath the man’s jaw, causing his head to be wrenched unexpectedly backward, that thin strip of leather cutting into his throat. The corporal instantly released his grip on the lanyard restraining Ritter as he gave a hoarse cry of pain and dropped to his knees, wheezing and clutching at his throat.
“Feels nice, doesn’t it, koshinuke yaro?” He snarled angrily, whirling on the man before anyone else could react and sinking a boot into his back for good measure. “Kutabare…!”
That small victory was short-lived however. Even as the stricken NCO writhed on the ground, howling in agony, three others surrounded Ritter and slammed him backward against a tree, knocking the fight out of him and leaving him with lights flickering in his vision as the back of his head cracked against the trunk.