Moral Compass (The Samuel Beasley Trilogy Book 1)

by Adam J Watts

  He still couldn't believe that his friend and former classmate was a serial killer. They do say that it's the quiet ones you have to watch, but it was an extremely shrewd move to offer to help him with the cases. We rarely see the things closest to us and a certain level of sanctuary can be found when hiding in plain sight.

  There had been plenty of time to think, but still Ed had only two questions. His first quandary came in the form of motivation and trying to understand what had driven Seb to murder. The second puzzle was far more personal. What would happen to him now?

  He supposed that an insignificant character such as himself would either be lost in the filing system and farmed out to some remote concentration camp, or -- in the worst case scenario -- he would be shot as a spy... All because of the false paperwork Samuel Beasley had given him.

  Was that perhaps his intention all along? To get him caught by the Germans and be removed from the equation remotely. He was well aware of his so-called friend's interest in his wife. She wouldn't dare go behind his back though... Would she?

  Footsteps in the corridor. Time to get up and plead his case. The concentration camp was looking more and more appealing by the minute.

  A figure slowly came into view and Ed's eyes attempted to adjust to the bright light that burst into the room once the door had been opened. It was Hackbeil.

  'Guten Morgen Herr Irwin. I trust you are well ja?'

  'Nein!' he barked back in a clear display of rebellion. Herman shook his head, 'Come now, that is no way to speak to your saviour.’

  Ed paused in his tracks and put down the metal tray he was about to throw at his visitor.

  'Saviour?'

  'That is correct Edward. You have been in this holding cell for a reason. I have worked tirelessly to persuade those above me that you have some value. To shoot you as a spy would be a terrible waste of talent.’

  Ed was naturally dubious.

  'What's the catch?'

  Herman pulled up a chair from across the corridor and sat opposite his captive.

  'No catch. You will work for me Herr Irwin. Your police background and higher education make you the perfect man for the job.’

  'What job is that?'

  'Personal security.’

  'A bodyguard? Not a chance.’

  'Did I say that you had a choice in the matter?' Herman shouted, his voice reverberating around the walls of the small, oblong room.

  'Jesus, okay. You're the boss.’

  Hackbeil smiled, 'I am glad we agree on something... Now, if you are a good boy and serve your time in my employment I will help you bring Samuel Beasley to justice,' he leaned in before delivering the final part of his offer, 'Does this appeal to you Herr Irwin?'

  Ed moved closer to the bars.

  'You know it does,' he said solemnly.

  'Gut! A mutually beneficial arrangement and one which will ultimately aid the Reich.’

  'Oh?'

  'But of course. Any way of increasing the protection of a prize asset has to be a good thing ja?' he chuckled to himself.

  'You certainly have a big opinion of yourself.’

  At this point Herman stood up and replaced the chair. Ed couldn't tell whether this was in reaction to his comment or the conversation had merely come to an end.

  'Perhaps, but I will one day show the world just how right I was.’

  The German reached the door before turning back to face Ed. 'Clean him up! He will visit the doctor in ten minutes.’

  'For what?' he shouted back, but it was too late. Herman had gone and two soldiers were coming towards him, keys and restraints in hand.

  ***

  'How am I doing Doc?' Ed ventured, hoping to make some form of light conversation.

  'Ask me again in half an hour... If you still can.’

  He felt the prick of the hypodermic, but anything after that point was a blank.

  In what must have been an expanse of hours, Ed had been unconscious. His vision was blurred and he felt strange. He wanted to move, but the restraints prevented this.

  What just happened to me?

  Slowly he examined as much of as his body as he could see. Everything appeared to be intact. It was his head that hurt the most. He'd had some hangovers in his time, but this was the mother of them all.

  'Can you hear me Herr Irwin?' a voice asked from behind the bed.

  'Yes.’ he mumbled in reply.

  'Good. We believe the procedure to be a success, but we must perform another test to confirm this...'

  'What procedure? You said medical...'

  'Now is not the time to split the hairs Edward. Just sit back und enjoy das movie.’

  As if in response to the sudden darkness, Ed's heart rate soared. The whirring of a projector could be heard, before light hit the wall opposite him.

  Little did he know it, but this would be the last time he would ever truly be himself. From this day forward, he would be nothing more than a tool. Something a lot of people -- including his estranged wife -- would argue he was all along...

  Chapter Twenty-Eight: Into The Woods ~ Summer 1940

  After much deliberation and a lengthy game of poker, Seb had scored two victories by the time the following morning came. Not only had his advice been taken for the raid on a local, German position, but he was now the proud owner of some valuable war time currency.

  Pierre's original plan of attack was indeed daring, but lacked the subtlety required for the kind of terrain they would be fighting on. Similarly Private Hewitt's poker playing was unnecessarily forceful and thus ended badly for the young soldier. Cigarettes held little appeal to Seb, but that man needed teaching a lesson.

  The agreement reached during the small hours was one that Seb could live with. In exchange for his help in the forest, Pierre would utilise his contacts in the area to get his new helper into Germany. A ride to the nearest train station was only the first step in a considerable journey, but Seb was confident that he could handle things from that point forward.

  'Good morning!' Seb bellowed towards a groggy Private Hewitt with deliberate exuberance.

  'Is it really?' he retorted sarcastically.

  'Is for me... Smoke?' he smirked.

  'Stick it up your ass you...'

  A cough cut the young man's sentence short. It was Pierre.

  'Gentlemen! I want everyone outside in ten minutes.’ The soldiers were slow in getting to their feet. 'Okay, make that five. Now get moving you bunch of reprobates!'

  His last few words were quickly followed by the throwing of a bottle towards the far wall.

  It had the desired effect. Men scurried in every possible direction as they searched frantically for their equipment and personal belongings.

  'You have to be firm with them,' Pierre told Seb, 'They're like big kids really.’

  'A lot of them look like they still could be,' he replied thoughtfully.

  'Come with me.’

  There it was again. That arm around the shoulder. This was one particular aspect of Pierre's persona Seb would not miss. Once outside the two men continued their conversation.

  'What is it? Do you want to go over the plan one last time?' Seb enquired.

  'The plan is fine. I wanted to speak with you about my unit.’

  'What about them?'

  'Back home I am a teacher in Quebec. I see many boys like these on a daily basis.’

  Seb failed to see where this conversation was going.

  'Surely that is a good thing. You have a natural understanding of the age group and can command their respect.’

  'True, but I also know that males of this age are not mature enough to fight.’

  Seb looked into the eyes of the man standing opposite him.

  'They just need to believe... How old do you think I am?'

  Pierre was unsure what to say at first.

  'Mid-thirties?' he ventured.

  'Do I look that old? My God, imagine what I'll look like when this war is over!'

  They shared in
the joke, laughing out aloud. 'I'm twenty-four Pierre and I have been fighting -- in one way or another -- for approximately three years.’

  The Canadian looked away and spoke towards the distant tree line.

  'I guess the special training helps eh?'

  'Yes, but it's more than that. I believe in what we are fighting for. As well as this, I have my own, personal agenda. These are the things that make me capable.’ Understandably, Seb elected to omit Gerald's implant from his little sales pitch.

  The bearded man nodded in acknowledgement and without speaking and headed back inside the house. Seb did not follow. He knew that this was a time for a leader of men to rally his troops. There was no immediate rush. The German checkpoint wasn't going anywhere and it made much more sense to take an inspired group of men into battle.

  Ten minutes later the door to the farmhouse opened and Pierre strode into the courtyard. He spoke as he did so.

  'This man,' he gestured towards where Seb was standing, 'Was delivered to us for a reason. Now I know some of you dislike him, but you had better leave your differences at home. There is no place for ill feeling on the battlefield. We are brothers, fighting for the same cause. No one man is bigger than that... Do you understand?'

  'Yes Sir!' the group responded in unison.

  ***

  They had been walking for almost half an hour. A spell of evasive action extended the journey considerably as Pierre ordered everyone into a nearby field. A small, armoured convey was spotted up ahead and hiding was the only sensible course of action.

  The forest floor was still damp from the early morning dew and in places proffered little in the way of grip. Slowly they made their way towards the reference point Pierre had illustrated on his map. It wasn't long before the soldier holding the binoculars made the signal.

  He had seen signs of activity in the distance. Axis forces wearing their trademark grey uniforms were gathered in and around a series of shallow foxholes. Upon closer inspection Seb acknowledged the enemy's ability to set up considerable defences and turn the natural environment to their advantage.

  On the highest point a machine gun nest could be seen. Its range was a sweeping one and could cover access to the network of channels and embankments laid out before the advancing Allies. He needed to think.

  The original plan had been to flank any guns, but considering they were in something of a bottleneck, with high banks on either side there was no alternative but to go up the middle.

  Pierre carefully sidled over to him.

  'I fear the plan has gone to shit my friend,' he sighed.

  'Don't let your men hear you talk like that,' Seb exclaimed defiantly, 'We're not going back.’

  'You have another idea?'

  'Maybe... How many smoke grenades do you have?' Pierre looked around, scanning the belts of his several strong unit.

  'Two. We used some during our last encounter.’

  Seb believed two could be enough, if they had something else as well.

  'How about other types of explosive?'

  'We managed to source a few hand grenades from the Germans at the farmhouse and Stanley has a mine.’

  'Interesting.’

  'What good would the mine be in this situation? We cannot exactly stroll in and place it.’

  His mind was whirring. Seb could see how this was going to play out. He had already spied the perfect location from which to throw the mine, now all he needed was someone who could match such a throw with a Stielhandgranate.

  'Ask your spotter how many Germans he can see. I have a new plan, but we need to know how many and where they are.’

  Pierre gestured to the man behind the furthest tree using hand signals.

  'One on the turret, two near the dugout and four sat around a camp fire.’

  'Good, we need to act fast then before they move. Who from your group has the best throw?'

  'You won't like the answer,' he winced.

  Seb knew to whom Pierre was referring, but now was not the time to bear grudges.

  'Call him over. We need to talk.’

  'What do you want?' Hewitt asked with some venom.

  'Your cooperation. Forget the past for a moment. This is more important than any of that...'

  He didn't look convinced, but the scowl of his commanding officer persuaded him to listen to the amended plan.

  'I'm going to climb up the bank and into that tree. Once I'm there and ready to make our move, I will signal to you. Stanley's S Mine is going into that camp fire, but in case I miss you will be throwing a German grenade into that area at the same time.’

  'That will never work,' he said defiantly.

  The hand was lightning quick. Seb only just saw it as the fingers made contact with the young man's petulant face.

  'Do as the man says, Private. If I trust him, you trust him.’

  Hewitt was stunned and embarrassed in equal proportions. He simply nodded.

  'Hopefully we can start a chain reaction and Bouncing Betty will do the rest.’

  'But don't those mines require pressure from above in order to detonate?' Pierre asked.

  'Ordinarily yes, but if we can heat up the device or create an explosion near enough to it, this should

  trigger the fuse inside,' Seb paused, 'I'm no expert on explosives, but it's worth a try. If we use the smoke grenades at the same time and the mine doesn't detonate at least we will cause enough confusion to relocate and shoot them instead.’

  Silence. They either thought he was mad or were weighing up the other options available to them.

  'I have nothing better. Let's try it.’

  With this Pierre slowly made his way around to the other men and relayed the plan.

  Seb began his stealthy approach to the tree, mine in hand.

  Climbing the tree was dangerous. Not only were the branches slippery, but one false move could alert the close by troops. Finally he reached a suitable position and waved in the direction of the other men. The throw would have to be underarm due to his unorthodox situation and the weight of the German creation he was about to throw back to its makers.

  It was a good release. The mine pirouetted in the air. From the corner of his eye, Seb could see the Stielhandgranate mirroring the movements of its big sister, the pair heading for the same mark. So far so good. The Germans down below were oblivious. Unfortunately however, the soldier operating the mounted machine gun was not.

  He shouted something inaudible before opening fire.

  Seb was safe for now. The sweep of the machine gun would not reach the heights of the tree. The men on the ground were another matter entirely. The smoke grenades would be deployed within seconds, but he wasn't sure if it would be soon enough.