Time War: Onslaught

by Nick S. Thomas

  No response came.

  “He isn’t there. He never was. He’s a coward, but not a stupid one,” said Porter.

  “So where now?” Nylund asked as they salvaged what weapons they could.

  Corwin pointed to the opening where the walker had come from.

  “Looks like that’s the only way to go.”

  “Exactly where they want us to? That’s just dandy!”

  “You’re a whiny little bitch, Nylund, has anyone ever told you that?” Porter asked.

  Corwin laughed, knowing it was true.

  “You can bet Villiers, or whoever is running things around here, has got more in store for us. So let’s play his game, and beat him at it.”

  CHAPTER 12

  “Run!” Chas screamed.

  She wiped the blood from her nose and rushed on after Frasi. She was cradling her left arm where a knife had been thrust into her shoulder. She was breathing heavily now and running for her life. They could hear Robak storming after them. Frasi was limping from the beating he had taken as well, and neither had any weapons left of any kind. They ran on and on, in the desperate hope of finding a place to hide or some help, but none came. Finally, they ran into one room to find it was a dead end. Chas looked around desperately for solution to their problem, but as she looked back, they saw Robak fill the doorway.

  “There is nowhere left to run,” he snarled.

  He ran towards them as if he meant to pulverise them into the wall. At the very last moment, Frasi pushed Chas out of the way and took the full impact. But the force of the charge failed to crush him. The wall collapsed and then burst out the other side, dropping two metres into a pile of the rumble that had blown out from the wall as they made impact.

  Frasi coughed out dirt and dust from his lungs. When he managed to finally open his eyes, he saw Robak getting to his feet. But he could barely move, let alone get stand up.

  “You are finished,” said Robak.

  “No, you are,” said a stern voice.

  Robak stopped in his tracks. Corwin was standing behind him with an MG42 held at the waist. His face broke out into a beaming smile, and he pulled the trigger. Robak was hit by dozens of rounds. His body armour stopped the worst, but his legs were ripped apart, and he collapsed down with many more wounds. Corwin finally lifted his finger off the trigger when he was satisfied he was no longer a threat. Robak was a bloody mess. Chas jumped down to check on him, but Corwin strode up and held the gun barrel close to his head.

  “You have still lost,” Robak struggled to speak.

  “Oh, yeah? And you’re still going to die!”

  He began to squeeze the trigger when a loud voice echoed out around the room, as it had when Villiers addressed them, but this time it was not him. Corwin spun around in shock. One again they could not see the source of the sound. They had found themselves in a vast hangar of experimental and advanced aircraft, with a landing strip that led to a concealed entrance on the mountainside.

  “Sergeant Wyatt Corwin!” said the voice.

  There was no hope of telling where it was coming from, but it was a strong German accent that Corwin somehow recognised but could not pinpoint exactly how.

  “What is this shit?” Porter asked.

  He stepped out further in to the hangar and looked around for any sign of where it was coming from, but yet again there was nothing.

  “You know, this is starting to get real fucking boring!”

  “I have looked forward to this meeting for some time!”

  “Who the hell are you, you Nazi freak?”

  Two doors on an elevated position began to open on one of the far walls. They were five metres high and slowly prised apart to reveal a viewing balcony made of glass.

  “No, it can’t be,” said Corwin.

  They all looked with marvel at the man in the centre of the glass pane.

  “Is it really him?” Nylund whispered, “The Fuehrer, the man himself?”

  Without any more hesitation, Corwin lifted his gun and fired a burst at Hitler. The shots bounced of the thickened glass. As the ricochets died down, all they could hear was a sinister laugh.

  “Why don’t you come down here and settle this like a man?”

  “Oh, no, I don’t think so. I have so much more fun for you yet, Sergeant.”

  “It’s Captain!” Corwin snapped back.

  “Well, then, Captain, soon you and all your friends will be dead, and nothing will stand in our way!”

  “What is this guy, a comic book villain?”

  “You read comic books, Nylund?” Porter asked and began to laugh.

  “It’s really him, isn’t it?” Rane asked, not quite believing it.

  “So why don’t you come down here and finish this, you and I, right here and now?” Corwin called out.

  Hitler ignored him and seemed to reach down to a control panel by his side and press a few keys.

  “Well, this can’t be good.”

  Two doors opened ahead of them, and a dozen heavily armoured soldiers marched out from each of them. They were wearing some form of powered suits, and body armour covered most of their bodies. They stood half a metre taller than the average man as a result.

  The Dictator spoke again, “Captain, you and your people are the supermen which we are creating in this new empire. Men like you could live like kings in the new world. Join us, and your lives will not just be spared, but you will live with power and luxury the likes of which none of you could ever have imagined. You can be kings, or you can be dead.”

  “Here we go,” Nylund said quietly, knowing which way it was going to go.

  “I’ve got a message from Churchill for you!”

  Corwin held up his two fingers, and then raised his weapon. He opened fire and ran forward for the cover of a pile of containers in front of them. His team scattered in every direction. Automatic gunfire erupted through the hangar as the skirmish began. Corwin smiled as he looked out at the combat.

  “What’s so funny?” Nylund rolled into the cover beside him.

  “This is what we were born for.”

  Corwin got up and ran towards one of the aircraft, firing on the move. The shots knocked back one of the enemy soldiers but didn’t do any damage. He ducked down into cover as the return fire came in.

  “All right, you sons of bitches!”

  He pulled out a grenade, his last one. He primed it and launched it over the aircraft. It cleared the fuselage easily and landed amongst a few of the armoured soldiers who were arrogantly standing without any cover or care in the world. The grenade blew and much of the gunfire died down with it. Two of the soldiers lay dead, and another was rendered incapable as he flailed on the floor where his suit had lost power.

  “They’re invulnerable to our guns, so we’ll have to take these bastards down by hand!”

  He noticed a glimmer of movement as the twin cannons mounted in the nose of one of the parked craft turned towards him. They tracked right past and took aim at the Germans. He caught a glance of Nylund at the controls.

  “Hit those fuckers!” Corwin ordered.

  They opened fired. It was far more substantial than from the Brownings mounted on their jeeps. Corwin got up and looked with glee as holes were blown right through two of the Germans, and the rest of them were running for cover. The guns soon ran empty, but it was the opening Corwin needed. He climbed over the fuselage and ran at the nearest soldier. He turned to face him, but Corwin caught the barrel of his gun and stopped him dead. He reached forward and snapped his neck with a single strike. As he dropped, Corwin noticed a massive industrial grade wrench. He picked it up and swung at the next, hitting his flank. The man’s body buckled, and his spine snapped.

  He leapt forward and smashed the wrench down on the head of another so that it buckled his helmet from the weight of the impact. Several more then turned to engage him, so he quickly unscrewed the primers on two stick grenades on the man’s body and shoved him forward so that he slid up to them. They tried to
run for cover, but it was too late. Corwin stood his ground and smiled as the charge blew. Two more of them were ripped apart by the shrapnel.

  “Let’s finish this!” Corwin shouted.

  Rane ripped one of the aircraft doors off. He advanced using it as a shield as several of the remaining Germans opened fired on him. Corwin jumped on one of them. He clumsily swung around to try and shrug him off, but he wasn’t strong enough. He drove his knife down deep into the man’s neck, taking his gun as it dropped down. A box fed light machine gun. With the next enemy’s back to him, Corwin opened up on full auto at the running gear and power supply until finally it was destroyed, and the man collapsed to the deck.

  Ricochets flashed all around Rane as he advanced with the huge lump of aircraft held out before him. He finally closed the distance but did not stop. He smashed into the first man and flattened him, then threw the door at one that crushed him to the floor.

  He ran up to the next and picked him up, throwing him towards the glass where Hitler was still observing the action. He smashed into it at massive speed, and yet was stopped and dropped dead to the ground. The glass had suffered just a modest crack, and Hitler seemed to smile at them as if he were enjoying the show.

  What the fuck is going on in that lunatic’s mind?

  As he was thinking, Corwin saw Porter fly through the air. He had in his hand the mace that he had taken from the previous rooms. He smashed it down on a man’s head, and the force cracked the helmet opened. The mace embedded in his skull, and he collapsed under the weight of Porter who landed on top of him.

  Not one of the Germans was now still standing. Harland had taken a bullet to the arm and was tying a piece of material around the wound, seemingly not at all bothered or in any pain. Corwin took a few paces back still holding the wrench, and then waved it at Hitler.

  “All these advancements that you have been given. All this knowledge and power, and what have you achieved with it?”

  Hitler began to laugh. He was calm and calculated, and Corwin could not help but wonder if he knew something they did not.

  “I didn’t come here to reason with you. I will show no mercy and offer no terms! I have come for your head!”

  “And what would you do with it? Show it to the world so that you can triumphantly take over my power and position?”

  Corwin shook his head.

  “Don’t tell me you don’t want it. Do you know what can be achieved with the power we know today? The world is ours for the taking. It could be yours, if you could defeat me. Or it could be ours, to share.”

  “He’s got a point. You’ve got to wonder if we’re playing for the right team,” said Porter.

  “You’re joking?” Nylund asked, but he said nothing.

  Corwin laughed.

  “You would never share power with us.”

  “No, not entirely. But I could give you such power you never dreamed of. What is it you all want in your lives? Think of it, and together we could make it happen.”

  “Something is wrong,” said Nylund, “This isn’t the man Beyett told us about.”

  “What do you mean?” Corwin asked.

  “Hitler wouldn’t reason with us, not even to lure us in to a trap.”

  But Hitler carried on before they could say anything else.

  “Bow to me now, or meet your deaths.”

  That alone got Porter’s back up even though he was tempted by the prospect a moment before.

  “Let’s end this asshole!”

  Corwin quickly looked around at his people, and they all were all of one mind. He even looked all the way back to Chas where they had first come into the hangar. She was holding Frasi, and it seemed like he wasn’t moving. She nodded in agreement, but was unable to get up and help.

  “You have your answer you, Nazi scum!”

  “So be it, Captain Corwin.”

  They watched in disbelief as a tall humanoid like robot slid forward beside Hitler. It stood twice his height. A few hatches opened up on it, enough space for a man. They watched him climb into the suit, and it sealed around him.

  “What the hell?”

  The glass that had separated them began to slide open, and Hitler in his armoured suit jumped out and landed on the hangar bay floor in front of them. Corwin could barely believe his eyes.

  ‘This is more like it,” said Harland.

  The Fuehrer walked forward with heavy footing in the thickly armoured suit. It dwarfed even Rane, and they spread in readiness to take him on.

  “How we gonna do this?” Nylund asked.

  Corwin looked around for anything to use to fight with besides his wrench, but there was nothing. Hatches on the forearms of Hitler’s suit opened, and short-barrelled light machine guns rose out.

  “Oh, shit, everyone run!”

  They all scattered. The two weapons opened fire, and the hangar once again erupted into a vicious gun battle. Harland and Nylund tried to return fire, but their weapons were useless against the thick armour. They ducked back down for cover, but Rane went forward. He charged at Hitler as his focus was elsewhere. He hit into him like a freight rain, and it was enough to knock him off his feet. But from his back he picked Rane up singlehandedly and threw him off.

  As he got up, he found Corwin at his side. He smashed the wrench against Hitler with all his might. He lifted an arm to parry, and it stopped the wrench, but not before it had crushed the barrel of one of the machine guns. He swung at Corwin, but it was slow and clumsy. Corwin ducked under and smashed the mechanism of the other gun in the same way, but before he could marvel at his own work, he was struck by a backhand and thrown through the air and crashed through the glass of an aircraft cockpit.

  Corwin let out a cry of pain as he noticed a shard of thick glass from the cockpit housing had embedded in his arm. It had gone right through and out the other side. He took one end and pulled it out in one. He cried out once again. Blood dripped out over the controls as he looked back at his friends being thrown about mercilessly. Then he realised where he was, in the cockpit of a jet fighter.

  “Right, you motherfucker, let’s try this on for size!”

  He fired up the engines and waited for them to come to life. Meanwhile, all he could do was watch. He saw Harland get his arm broken and be tossed aside. A large blade extended out from Hitler’s right hand, and Corwin watched in horror as it was thrust through Porter’s stomach. The man dropped down limp as he was thrown off the blade.

  The engines were alive now, and Corwin began to taxi and then slammed on full power. He squeezed the trigger on the guns, and the two cannons roared to life. Round after round hit Hitler. They forced him back and pinned him against the far wall until finally the nose of the craft smashed into him. The refuelling line pierced his body like a lance and skewed him before embedding in the wall. The craft slammed to a halt, and Corwin lurched forward, smashing his nose on the console. Blood burst out, but he knew it was worth it.

  Above him the armoured head of the suit had collapsed over the nose cone. Hitler looked dead. The top of the helmet was split and broken from the impact, but not enough to see inside.

  “Told you we would get you, you son of a bitch,” said Corwin.

  But even before he had finished speaking, the head rose up and glared at him. He pushed back the aircraft so that the pole was pulled from his body, and when he was finally free, he lifted his hand as if to strike a hammer blow down on the cockpit. It would have been strong enough to flatten Corwin. He lifted his feet to jump out but found they had become trapped by the impact. He had nowhere to go.

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw Porter fly past. He had his mace in both hands and smashed it down onto Hitler’s head, right on the seam of the crack. The impact rocked the Fuehrer and sent him tumbling back. He hit the far wall and dropped down onto one knee. Porter did not let up and went forward, beating on the helmet with strike after strike. It finally split open and one got through and hit the top of his head, splitting it open.

  The
suit went limp and began to collapse. Porter stepped aside and let it come crashing down between him and Corwin’s wrecked fighter.

  “Next time I say I need something, believe me, I need it,” said Porter, as he himself collapsed onto one knee, feeling the weakness of blood loss kicking in. Nylund rushed to his side to look at the wound.

  “We need to get you some help, right now!”

  Porter shrugged him off and got back to his feet. He walked over to the body as Corwin clambered out of the aircraft. He could see the bloody top of his vanquished foe and a crack in his skull, but he could not see the face.

  “Just leave him. It’s done,” said Nylund.

  “No, we have to have proof. You can’t just kill the biggest villain in the world, and then return home without proof.”

  “Why? He’s dead.”

  “Yeah, well let’s make sure,” added Porter.

  He carefully studied the suit and found the release mechanism, but it was well locked. He lifted up his mace once more and crashed it down on the mechanism, and then twice more before it broke apart. He got his hands on each side of the helmet opening and tried with all his strength to prise it apart, but it would not budge.

  “Give me a hand here!”

  Corwin moved to his side and Rane the other. They heaved with all their strength, and the suit opening broke apart to reveal the man inside.

  “It’s him. Can we get the hell out of here now?”

  “Nylund, quit your bitching for one second and let us be certain,” said Corwin.

  Porter ripped open the rest of the armoured entry doors and pulled out the body in one go. He had the ridiculous moustache, the side parting, and appeared to be of the right age, but Porter turned him over for another look.

  “What is it?” Corwin asked.

  He pointed to scars behind both ears.

  “He’s a monster, doesn’t mean we have to tear him apart with no dignity at all,” said Nylund.

  But they ignored him as Porter ripped open his uniform. Beneath was the body of a much younger man, and in much better physical condition than Hitler could have been. He was well muscled and half the Fuehrer’s age. There was another scar around his neckline, almost as if a noose had hanged him.