Time War: Invasion

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Time War: Invasion Page 18

by Nick S. Thomas


  Hotwell smiled wanly and left, but none of them were hopeful.

  "It was worth a shot," said Beyett.

  "Really?" asked Tano, "You thought these people would ever believe such an outrageous story?"

  Corwin said nothing.

  "We are nothing more than freaks to them, just like Robak. We might as well be with the Nazis for all they care."

  "Until we prove to them otherwise," said Nylund.

  "Your pathetic attempt at chivalrous intent is laughable. Get back to the real world," replied Tano.

  A day passed with them behind bars, and they were all becoming more and more concerned. Guards patrolled the building constantly. Corwin and Beyett were anxious of doing any harm to their allies, but they could see several among them were reaching a state where they would do anything to get out from captivity. Corwin watched Porter eyeing up one of the guards and imagining ways of taking him down. The tension in the room was reaching boiling point when Hotwell once again rushed in. He looked even more flustered than the last time.

  "What is it?" Corwin asked.

  "It's begun!"

  "What?"

  "The invasion!"

  The guards stopped and looked at him in fear as they listened in.

  "Seaborne landings all along the southeast coast, as well as multiple reports of airborne operations underway further to the north and west."

  "How large?"

  "Hard to say, but it's big," Hartwell answered.

  "The beginning of the end," said Tano.

  Corwin turned to him somewhat confused.

  "That is what it was when the Allies did the same."

  "What is he talking about?" Hotwell asked.

  "In our time line, our history, the Allies launched one of the largest and most ambitious operations in human history. Seaborne and airborne landings in Northern France in June 1944. Hard to imagine how that could ever take place now," replied Beyett solemnly.

  "And that was the beginning of the end," added Tano.

  "Set us free. Let us help," Corwin begged him.

  But Hotwell shook his head.

  "I'd be shot for letting you out of here."

  "And if you don't, you'll find an enemy bullet soon enough," snapped Vi.

  "I'm sorry. I will try and get back to you tomorrow with more news. Maybe the Brigadier will see sense in these desperate days, and realise that you are of more use to us out there than in here."

  He turned and left in a state of despair.

  "Are we just going to sit around here and do nothing?"

  "This is bigger than any of us, Nylund," replied Beyett, "The fight will come to us soon enough."

  They fell silent and deep with thought. The silence was suddenly broken by a quiet laugh that got deeper and louder. It was coming from another locked room that they could not see into. It was an eerie sound, and they could do nothing but wait for whomever it was to speak.

  "The best soldiers in your army, and here you are, locked in here with me."

  They recognised it as the voice of Corporal Winter immediately. Beyett was already shaking his head.

  "What the hell is he doing in here?" he asked Corwin, "He is one of the most significant pieces of captured enemy intelligence the Allies will ever know, and they left him here?"

  Once again Winter laughed sadistically.

  "What is so funny?" asked Corwin.

  "That you think you can still fight and win this war. You think you have months or years to keep up this fight, when you only have days. It will soon be over."

  Corwin looked to Beyett for answers. "What does he know that we don't?"

  "No idea, but clearly we need to find out."

  Corwin glanced over to the two guards that were watching them eagle eyed with Sten guns held across their bodies.

  "All right, if we do this, nobody dies, you got it?" whispered Corwin.

  They all nodded in agreement. He looked to Vi and Lecia and gave them the go ahead. The two women stepped up to the bars of the cells. Lecia drew out a small metal dart hidden in the lining of her coat. She looked back to Vi one last time to check she was ready before launching it with a snap of her wrist. The steel dart struck the one guard between the eyes with the blunt end and knocked him off his feet.

  Before he had hit the ground, Vi threw out a fine flexible steel cord that latched onto the submachine gun of the other guard. She tugged back, and he was launched into the bars before her. He tried to wrestle the gun free, but she thrust her arm through the bars and around his neck, pinning him to the cell. He struggled for just a few seconds before passing out.

  Rane stepped up to the main door and placed both hands on the bars beside the lock, bent it free, and then heaved the door open. It scraped along the floor from where it had buckled, but could not resist Rane's strength. He rushed to the first guard that Lecia had struck. The man was stunned and trying to regain his senses from lying flat on his back, but the last thing he saw was Rane's fist connecting with his nose and knocking him out cold.

  Corwin rushed to the doorway where they had heard Winter's voice coming from. There was a small barred window at eye level on a heavily reinforced doorway. The German Corporal sat at the back of the cell looking completely relaxed and with a smug grin on his face. Corwin took hold of the reinforced frame on the front of the door and tried to pull it open, but he got nothing.

  He turned just in time to see Lecia toss him a set of keys from one of the guards. He went through each of the five on the ring, but none seemed to match.

  "Guess they really did throw away the key on this one," he said.

  "They wouldn't allow guards access to a prisoner this dangerous," replied Beyett.

  "Rane, give me a hand."

  "It's no good. You're not getting in. Don't you think I would have been out of here by now if that were the case?"

  "We'll see."

  "Rane grabbed hold of the door and pulled with Corwin until one of the outer bars buckled slightly, but it had no effect on the structure. Rane pushed Corwin aside and kicked at the lock. There was an almighty crash as his foot landed, but still the door stood as firmly as Winter's smile. But Rane was not deterred. He hit it again, and again, until on the fifth strike the door caved slightly. Winter leapt to his feet and to the side of the cell, realising what was coming next. Rane's foot hit the door one last time, and it was launched off its hinges and smashed into the wall where Winter had been just seconds before. It crashed down to the floor of the cell.

  Winter looked genuinely scared now as the towering Rane ducked in through the doorway and stood before him. Corwin stepped inside beside him with Porter taking up the other flank.

  "You are going to tell us everything you know," said Corwin.

  "Or what?" he asked defiantly.

  "Or I leave you to the mercy of him," said Corwin, pointing to Porter who was holding the pig sticker bayonet from one of the guard's Sten guns.

  "You'd be amazed what I could do with this," he said with a smile.

  "You won't use torture. The noble allies, you would never dream it."

  Porter stepped forward with another word and grabbed Winter by the throat. He was strong and tried to resist, but not strong enough. Porter lifted him off his feet and drove the bayonet into his shoulder. The German let out a cry of pain before going limp and stopping his resistance. Porter drew out the blade and dropped him back to his feet.

  "I'll never tell you anything," Winter spat defiantly.

  "It's gonna be a long night," Corwin replied.

  * * *

  Captain Hotwell rushed into the former armoury to deliver the news, only to stop dead on finding Harland standing on guard with a Sten gun in hand just inside the entrance of the building.

  "How the hell did you get out?"

  But no response came. A scream of pain echoed through the halls, and Hotwell hurried on towards the cells. As he got to where he had last left Corwin, he found Winter tied to the top of a table, and the two guards tied to chairs b
eside him. Winter was covered in blood and heavily bruised from a beating.

  "What the hell is going on here?"

  Then he recognised the German soldier and shook his head.

  "What on earth is he even doing here?"

  "A good question," replied Corwin, "I told you how important this man was."

  "And I made that clear to the Colonel."

  "Obviously not clear enough, Captain."

  "Okay, but you can't just torture him. You know what a crime this is?"

  "You know how little that will matter if this country falls?"

  Hotwell stood back, but he was far from comfortable with the situation.

  "You think torture will get the information you want? A hundred and something years of development and these are your interrogation techniques? It's barbaric."

  "You might be surprised how helpful people can be with the right motivation," replied Porter. He then grasped the bayonet that was embedded in the Corporal's shoulder. He began to apply sideways pressure until Winter squirmed, and then punched him in the side of his already badly bruised and bloodied face.

  "You're too late to save him," said Winter.

  His eyes were rolling, and he looked dazed and barely even awake.

  "Save who?" Hotwell asked.

  Suddenly the Captain's tone had turned from concern for the prisoner to curiosity and intrigue.

  "Your precious Churchill," he said and began laughing as he spat out blood.

  Hotwell's face was overcome with a look of terror.

  "The Prime Minister?"

  When he got no response, he wrapped his hands around Winter's throat and shook him.

  "Tell me!"

  "He's a dead man, and there is nothing you can do to stop it."

  "This is what you were trained for, you and others like you?"

  Winter nodded as Hotwell let go his grasp and stepped back in despair.

  "Churchill?" Porter asked.

  The name meant little to most of them.

  "Only one of the most important wartime leaders of the century," Beyett explained, "Without Churchill to lead this nation, victory may never have been had."

  "He is really that important?" Corwin asked.

  "You know how important it was to take down Villiers, and still is?"

  "It was always our primary mission."

  "However important you think it was to victory to take him down, it is just as important for the enemy to end Churchill's life. He is a symbol of resistance in this war. The whole country could come crashing down with his loss," said Hotwell.

  Winter laughed once again as blood spewed out onto his white vest.

  "This war is already over. You just haven't accepted it yet," he said in spite.

  Corwin looked over and lashed out with a rapid back fist into Winter's face that knocked him out cold.

  "We could have got more from him," said Hotwell.

  "No, we've heard enough. He'll only feed us lies."

  "And you are sure this isn't?"

  "Pride got the better of him," added Beyett, "I don't doubt that is the truth. And what better time to strike at the country’s leader than when the nation’s forces are occupied by the greatest threat to this land in hundreds of years?"

  "But we have to report this!"

  "And who would believe us?" asked Vi, "Last time we tried to help, we ended up in here. There’s no chance anyone will listen to a word we have to say."

  "What do we do?"

  "The only thing we can do, Hunter. The thing we were born and bred to do," Corwin said firmly, "We fight this battle ourselves."

  "We are really going to do this? We are going to break out and go for the country’s leader? We screw this timing up, and we'll be seen as assassins ourselves," said Vi.

  "And we don't try, and it may already be too late."

  "What do you want me to do?" asked Hotwell.

  "How do we find out where Churchill is?"

  Hotwell sighed as began to think about it and then finally came a glimmer of hope.

  "Colonel Williams will know."

  "You are sure?"

  "Absolutely. He's still in a hospital about half an hour from here."

  "We cannot use the same methods on an ally," said Beyett.

  "No, Williams knows the sort of people we are. I believe he will trust us, and besides it’s the only shot we have right now. I can’t think of anything else," said Corwin.

  He turned back to Hotwell.

  "We need transport, and our gear."

  "I can get it. It's chaos out there with all this going on. No one will know we have gone for hours. What about him?" he asked, pointing down to Winter.

  "Tie him up securely."

  "With injuries like that, it could kill him."

  "If he dies, he dies," replied Corwin coldly.

  A few moments later Hotwell was leading them out and across an open parade ground and into the newer armoury building. He said a few words to the guard and passed through with no resistance at all. All of their equipment was laid out across several racks and tables. But Rane walked past beyond it all and stopped before a massive heavy machine gun lying on a worktop.

  "What is that?" he asked.

  "Browning fifty calibre machine gun. A fine American weapon that has some vehicle applications, but I can't think you..." replied Hotwell.

  But he was silenced as Rane put his hand on the carrying handle attached to the barrel and lifted it off the counter, as if it were little more than an assault rifle in weight.

  "Think you can handle that beast?"

  Rane nodded to Corwin.

  "I hope you know what you're doing. That thing will destroy everything before it."

  "Yeah?" Rane asked eagerly.

  Hotwell pulled on a set of webbing and began stuffing the pouches with Sten magazines before throwing an additional bandolier of seven onto his back.

  "What are you doing?"

  "You need me. You know that."

  Corwin knew it was true, so he didn't fight it, but he knew the Captain was way out of his element.

  * * *

  They were on the road once again, and in a single jeep and truck. Hotwell drove the jeep with Corwin next to him.

  "When we get there, you let me do the talking, okay? Your people have a tendency to rile people up in a way that isn't all that helpful in these situations.”

  Corwin couldn’t help but nod and smile in agreement.

  "You really believe what Corporal Winter was saying?"

  "Yeah, because it's what I'd do. You're telling me that if you had even the smallest chance of putting a bullet in Hitler's head, you wouldn't take that chance?"

  "It's just not the way we work. It’s rather underhand, don't you think?"

  "That coming from an intelligence officer? This is war, Captain, not a game."

  They pulled up to the hospital and found it was unguarded. Corwin and Hotwell strode inside without a word from anyone. It was a peaceful and quiet facility, but they both knew it would not stay that way for long. Hotwell clearly knew where he was going and led them right to the Colonel's bedside.

  "Ah, Captain Hotwell," said Williams as he sat up. But he stopped in shock at seeing Corwin close behind him. Hotwell looked around for a second to check no one was looking. He snapped a quick jab into the Colonel's face and caught him before he fell. He was still conscious but dazed as Hotwell helped him to his feet.

  "That's my kind of solution," joked Corwin.

  Hotwell sighed.

  "I'll be court martialled for it later. Even if we do make this work."

  "Cross that bridge when we come to it," replied Corwin.

  They passed one of the medical orderlies who looked suspicious.

  "Excuse me," began the man.

  "Out of the way!" Hotwell ordered.

  "Colonel Williams is not fit to leave his bed," protested the orderly.

  Hotwell stopped and squared off against the man.

  "Don't you know what's goi
ng on out there? The Colonel is needed urgently. You'll have plenty more patients to deal with before long. Now stand aside!" he barked.

  The man was intimidated and did as he was told as they carried on.

  "Nice work," said Corwin.

  "You can add that to a long list of shit that is going to be piled on top of my head."

  Corwin took the delirious Colonel off his hands when they reached the vehicles, and carefully lifted him into the back of the jeep. He took out his canteen and threw half the contents over Williams’ face. He quickly awoke as the cold water felt almost freezing in the cool night.

  "What, where?" he asked before he looked at the two of them and remembered.

  "Captain Hotwell, you will return this man to his cell immediately."

  "No, Colonel, we have a job to do, and we need your help."

  "I am not at liberty to help you!"

  "Then you condemn your Prime Minister to death," Corwin said.

  He opened his mouth to speak, but was silenced by the shock of what had been said. He turned to Hotwell for confirmation, but he only confirmed what Corwin had said.

  "A team of highly trained and competent soldiers could well be on their way to assassinate Churchill, even as we speak, Sir."

  "And you know this how?"

  "Because of Corporal Winter, the man the Germans risked so much to rescue, who has super human strength, and I told you was vital in all of this. The same Corporal you left locked up with us. We got to the bottom of it, but now we have very little time to act."

  "And what do you expect me to do about that?"

  "You know where the Prime Minister is, don't you?"

  "A Battalion commander would not be privy to such information."

  "No, but you are, aren't you, Sir?" Hotwell asked.

  Finally he gave in.

  "I...suppose so, yes. I know where he would be taken at a time like this. But I could never share that information with you, or any one for that matter.”

  "Colonel, I saved your life, and all I ask now is that you trust me."

  Williams grit his teeth and thought it over. He still looked uncertain.

  "Time is not a luxury we have right now," added Corwin.

  "Don't make me regret this," he replied quietly.

 

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