by Barry Sadler
He gave the room one last look. Moving to the body of Eva, he pulled her skirt down to cover an expanse of thigh. Whatever she was, she had the courage to die – more than the man she loved. Opening the sealed double doors, Casca stepped into the hall, closing the door behind him. The waiters heard nothing; fireproof and gas-proof doors prevented this. Casca merely nodded and turned right, heading to the supply room to collect his gear. The faces of those waiting were pale, frightened and confused, but no questions were asked and nothing was volunteered. They would wait the prescribed ten minutes. The only sound was that of his boots slapping against the concrete floor and the droning generator.
Gathering up his gear, Casca slung his pack to his back and picked up one of the new Stg-44 assault rifles that fired the 7.92 Kurz round and headed out down the passageway that led to the chancellery. Those who still had the strength were involved in an orgy of desperation. Women who had been fleeing the Russians gave themselves to any soldier who would have them, while in the makeshift hospital, Professor Schenek amputated the leg of a fourteen-year-old Hitler youth who had blown his own leg off when he tried to knock out a T-34 with a sticky bomb. The boy died before the leg could be tossed into the trash with the others.
Casca hunched low, waiting his chance. Dawn would soon be on him and he had to move quickly. To be caught in the light would certainly mean capture. The sound of Russians under the bridge was broken by a short round from one of their own 105 mms that blasted several men to bits and sent the others to the ground for cover.
Casca raced across the bridge, bending low to the ground, his assault rifle at the ready. On the opposite end of the bridge a scared Mongolian-looking face raised up from behind a pile of rubble in time to be shot through the mouth by a short three- round burst from the Stg-44. Leaping over the body, Casca ran into a cloud of smoke and entered hell....
He stood in the midst of an inferno. Buildings on both sides of the street were burning fiercely. The intensity of the fires made whirlwinds of flames dance and the heat tried to suck the air from his lungs. Acrid clouds of yellow smoke whirled and twisted as buildings crumpled, throwing clouds of ashes, sucked up by the flames and spread over the city.
Casca stood frozen in the halo of the flames raging about him as gray ash with small red sparks of life tried to catch his clothing on fire so that he too could become part of the holocaust. Ashes covering his face and mouth were the same dull color of the ground now three inches deep with ashes. In front of him halfway down the block, a four-storied apartment building's brick exterior crumbled and fell away, leaving only a burning frame. Katyushas added their own special sound to this overture of destruction with an intensity that would have made Wagner pale. As the framework of the building was consumed in clouds of yellow smoke, one part of the structure remained. Three stories high, it blazed and all that was left was a giant burning cross, wrapped in dancing licking flames, reaching for the heavens then wrapping around itself lovingly, feeding the raging roar and blast, making tears run down his face, cutting clean small channels that showed skin beneath the coatings of ash and dust. The structure burned until all that was left was a giant cross.
Watching fascinated through watering, burning eyes, Casca looked into the fires of Gotterdammerung. For a fleeting moment, a face looked out from the fire of the burning cross, gentle eyes in a sad face as the smoke formed a wreath of thorns and then it was gone.
Numbly, Casca blinked. His throat was dry and cracking as soundless words came: through the maelstrom of the inferno...
"Nothing changes. All that was will be. The wheel turns once more."
The square back of the soldier hunched over as he walked into the cloud of twisting yellow and red smoke, the flames kissing his boots as the clouds covered him and the cross crumbled into ash.
* * *
Goldman shook his head. Things began to come back into focus. A doorman standing erect at his position looked at him with a concerned expression.
"Are you all right, sir?" He spoke in English, recognizing the American cut of his clothes. "May I call a doctor?"
Goldman looked about him. Casca was gone, vanished in the afternoon crowd. "No, no, I'm quite all right, thank you. Just a touch of dizziness."
He left the doorman still looking after him and walked out onto the crowded sidewalks. Evening was near, the lights of the city were coming on to signal another carefree night of gaiety.
Where are you now, Casca? Why have you chosen me to do this to? I don't want it but I can't stop it. I know sometime somewhere you'll come again and I'll be waiting. Till then, auf Wiedersehen, you miserable bastard. I think I've said that before.
Carl Langer was waiting in line at the airport at Templehof. The announcer gave the departures over the PA in German, French and English. Flights going all over the world.
The plane to the Orient wouldn't be leaving for a couple of hours yet. He paid for his ticket and found a seat to wait in. He had time to kill. Yes, that was one thing he always had plenty of. Time.
Continuing Casca’s adventures, book 5 The Barbarian
The plains of Parthia were littered with the bodies of the dead and dying, as Casca moved away from the battle. Rome did not take desertion lightly, and while they couldn’t kill The Eternal Mercenary, they could make life very uncomfortable….
His only escape is into the Northlands beyond Germany, to lands lovely with fjords – and horrible with blood lust.
For more information on the entire Casca series see www.casca.net
The Barry Sadler website www.barrysadler.com
THE CASCA SERIES IN EBOOKS
By Barry Sadler
Casca 1: The Eternal Mercenary
Casca 2: God of Death
Casca 3: The Warlord
Casca 4: Panzer Soldier
Casca 5: The Barbarian
Casca 6: The Persian
Casca 7: The Damned
Casca 8: Soldier of Fortune
Casca 9: The Sentinel
Casca 10: The Conquistador
Casca 11: The Legionnaire
Casca 12: The African Mercenary
Casca 13: The Assassin
Casca 14: The Phoenix
Casca 15: The Pirate
Casca 16: Desert Mercenary
Casca 17: The Warrior
Casca 18: The Cursed
Casca 19: The Samurai
Casca 20: Soldier of Gideon
Casca 21: The Trench Soldier
Casca 22: The Mongol
By Tony Roberts
Casca 25: Halls of Montezuma
Casca 26: Johnny Reb
Casca 27: The Confederate
Casca 28: The Avenger
Casca 30: Napoleon’s Soldier
Casca 31: The Conqueror
Casca 32: The Anzac
Casca 34: Devil’s Horseman
Casca 35: Sword of the Brotherhood
Casca 36: The Minuteman
Casca 37: Roman Mercenary
Casca 38: The Continental
Casca 39: The Crusader
Casca 40: Blitzkrieg
Casca 41: The Longbowman