by Lee Rudnicki
Sebastian was undeterred by the qualifications, or lack thereof, of the squad he was trying to assemble. “If you were brave enough to put that uniform on with the Red Army closing in on Berlin, you’re brave enough for me. Now, who else is brave enough to help us implement our genius plan?”
The Luftwaffe pilot raised his hand. So did Thor, a soldier who had lost his left arm in the invasion of France. Neither man thought Sebastian’s plan—whatever it was—had a snowball’s chance in hell of succeeding, but the idea of surrendering to the Russians scared them, despite the promise of lenient treatment being touted by Soviet propagandists.
Frederick spit on the ground. “Enjoy your lost cause, you rat bastards.” And with that, he raised the white flag and led the rest of the men down the street.
Five minutes later, Sebastian and Wolf led their new rag-tag squad into the Hotel Neptune. As they entered, Dieter slipped and fell. As the men helped Dieter up, their attention shifted from his blood-soaked pants to the smashed and mutilated bodies that were scattered all over the place. It was butchery on a scale they had never seen before.
“Oh my,” Klaus said. “This is terrible.”
“Yeah, sorry. We had a little incident.”
“A little incident? This was no little incident,” Klaus replied. “This was a bloodbath, man. An orgy of violence.”
Dieter was astonished. “Are you guys serial murderers?”
“Pretty much,” Wolf replied. “Now, grab all the ammo and grenades you can find. You’re going to need it.”
29
Retaliation
The street remained eerily quiet as Frederick led the trek to the Russian lines. The death and destruction that they passed on the way was incredible.
The men wept when they passed the bread line, where the grim reaper took the form of an artillery shell. Out in the open, the poor hungry people had no chance against the white-hot steel that sliced their bodies to ribbons.
“I’ll never see my wife again,” a soldier sobbed.
“Stay strong,” Frederick replied.
A young soldier spotted a Russian sniper peering down at them from a rooftop. “I have a bad feeling about this. We should go back.”
“Everything will be fine,” Frederick replied. “We just have to make contact.” Then he waved the white flag back and forth and shouted. “Hello! We surrender! We have documents issued by the Red Army that guarantee us treatment in accordance with the Geneva Convention!”
Red Army soldier Alexander Lebel watched the Germans approach with bitterness in his heart. He had lost all three of his brothers when the SS locked them in a woodshed in reprisal for a partisan attack. The problem wasn’t the detention, it was the fact that the SS set the shed on fire and sprayed it with machine gun fire while his brothers were still inside. Now, the murderous bastards were asking for mercy and he was the one behind the machine gun. These Germans weren’t wearing black SS uniforms, but that didn’t matter to Alexander. They were all the same.
The surrendering Germans were caught off guard when the machine gun erupted. Most were cut down where they stood. Some tried to run away, but only one got more than a few steps.
Back in the Neptune, Wolf raised his binoculars as the staccato gunshots rang out. It saddened but did not surprise him that the men who Sebastian had just tried to talk out of surrendering were dead. He watched the lone survivor wave the white flag as he crawled back towards the hotel. With a single shot from a sniper, Frederick collapsed to the ground and died. His precious flag turned red with his blood.
Wolf lowered the binoculars and sighed. His calm acceptance of the situation was in stark contrast to the panic that enveloped the Hotel Neptune.
“The final assault has begun!” Klaus screamed hysterically. “We’re going to die! We’re all going to die! We’re doomed!”
The panic spread fast and spiraled out of control. “What are we going to do? We’re doomed!” Axel screamed. “We’re doomed!”
“We’re doomed! We’re doomed! We’re doomed!” Dieter added to the chorus. “We’re doomed!”
Wolf pointed his machine gun at the men. “Shut up! Shut the hell up!” he yelled. “Do I have to shoot all of you doom and gloom motherfuckers?”
Stunned silence.
“You wouldn’t really shoot us, would you, mister?” Dieter asked sheepishly.
Wolf sighed. “Most likely not. But you need to calm down or I will give it serious consideration. If you stay calm, we can execute the...” His voice trailed off.
“Plan,” Dieter said, finishing his sentence.
“Major, what exactly is the plan?” Klaus asked. “How do you plan to get us out of Berlin? Tell us your genius plan.”
The men stared at Wolf and waited for words of wisdom and comfort. They waited for hope.
Unfortunately, Wolf had no words of wisdom for them. Nor comfort. Nor hope. He stared at the ground and lit a cigarette that he had found in a dead Russian’s pocket.
“Major, tell us the plan. It will be much easier to execute the genius plan if we know what it is,” Klaus said.
Wolf rubbed his temples. He had no idea what to tell them. Point of fact, they were going to die. He debated lying to them for a drag or two of the cigarette. He wondered if it would even be possible to organize them into a fighting force if he told them the truth. Above all, he had to keep them calm. In war, panic equals catastrophe. His philosophy was that if you stay calm, you could survive any combat situation. Unless, of course, you are in a destroyed city that is surrounded by a million enemy soldiers.
“That’s not the final assault,” Wolf said, crushing the cigarette on the floor. “They just took care of your stupid friends. They also woke up every Soviet soldier within ten blocks and killed our chances of getting out of here quietly.”
“Do something!” Dieter begged. “We can’t just stay here until they butcher us.”
“There is nowhere else to go,” Wolf replied. “The tunnel led us here. We can’t shoot our way out with this motley crew and we just lost the element of surprise. Now, we need to prepare defensive positions and try to hold out until the government formally surrenders.”
“That is the plan?” Klaus asked. “Try to hold out until the government formally surrenders? That is your goddamn genius plan?”
“Look old man, there is no—”
“That is the genius plan? That piece of crap? An elephant with a paint brush could come up with a better plan than that.”
“But we believed you!” Dieter cried. “We need a plan!”
“We can go back into the tunnel,” Sebastian said.
That comment shut everybody up. There was finally something else on the table besides sitting around the Neptune and waiting for death to arrive. They all looked at Wolf with hope in their eyes again.
“Where is this tunnel, Major?” Klaus asked.
Wolf shook his head and sighed. “We can’t go back there. It’s a suicide mission.”
“It’s our only chance,” Sebastian said.
“Come on, Major,” Thor said.
“Please...” Dieter cried.
“Listen, men. That tunnel is not a way out of here—it will just take us back to Berlin Cathedral or the Soviet positions. Either way, we’ll be in Russian hands. Like I said, it’s a suicide mission. A death sentence.”
Sebastian smiled. “Eva didn’t think so.”
30
Rattenkrieg
The squad followed Sebastian down the tunnel as the sounds of the Battle for Berlin resonated above them. “I hope this little underground expedition doesn’t end in Red Square,” Klaus said.
“If it does, I’m going to kill some more Russians before I go,” Thor replied.
“Relax, Lefty. If we’re lucky, we’ll get out of Berlin without firing another shot,” Sebastian said.
Suddenly, there was a squeal. Dieter fell to his knees and aimed his Panzerfaust at the sound.
Luckily, Sebastian was able to throw his hand up before
the kid got the shot off. “Don’t shoot!” he yelled. “You’ll bring the ceiling down!”
Dieter lowered the Panzerfaust and Klaus thumped his helmet. “Think before you shoot, dummkopf. Think!”
Wolf aimed the flashlight at Dieter’s intended target. The ruby eyes of three large black rats reflected in the light. They were chewing on a corpse that looked remarkably like a deflated balloon. “Something sucked out his blood,” Thor said. Then he turned and puked.
“Hey, now. There is no projectile vomiting allowed on the tour of terror,” Axel teased.
“Buzz off, pilot,” Thor replied as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Or the next stream of puke goes on you.”
Wolf stepped over the pool of vomit and handed Dieter a pistol. “Here, junior. The next time that you decide to declare war on the rats, use this. You won’t kill all of us in the process. Got it?”
Dieter nodded silently. Lesson learned.
“Good. Let’s go,” Wolf said.
Guns at the ready, the squad continued down the tunnel as quietly as possible. Twenty meters later, the sound of chanting echoed through the tunnel.
“What the hell is that?” Thor asked.
“Shhhhhh,” Wolf replied. “Get down.”
The men crawled towards the sound until they came upon a huge cavern ringed with torches. In the center of it, Eva lay on a gray stone slab. Her eyes were closed.
Rodika held a silver dagger and chanted in a foreign tongue. This vampire was strikingly beautiful but much different in appearance than the twins; she was taller and had platinum blonde hair and blue eyes that complemented her distinctive Slavic facial features. She also had a high raspy voice, like a serpent. Behind her, Zina and Dumitra kissed passionately.
“What the hell is this wacky shit?” Sebastian asked, rubbing his eyes.
“Vampires,” Wolf replied. “Now do you believe me?”
Sebastian not only believed him, he was already running the battle plan through his head. “We have to stop them before they hurt Eva,” he said.
“Stand down,” Wolf warned. “They are far more powerful than you can even imagine.”
“She saved our lives,” Sebastian replied, not taking his eyes off of the dagger. Then Zina and Dumitra joined in the strange chant; the words accelerated and filled the chamber with a hypnotic ostinato. When Rodika raised the dagger into the air above Eva, Sebastian got on one knee and pointed his rifle into the cavern.
“Get down! This isn’t our fight,” Wolf implored.
“To hell with that—I’m not going to watch them kill her,” Sebastian replied.
Thor didn’t help the situation. “There are only three of them. We can take them out.”
Suddenly, a shot echoed through the tunnel and the dagger flew out of Rodika’s hand. The stunned vampire looked down at her hand and then at Sebastian. He had taken the perfect shot.
“Move! Move! Let’s go!” Sebastian yelled as he charged into the chamber. Thor scrambled to his feet and followed him in. The men unleashed a furious volley of gunfire. Bullets ricocheted everywhere; it was a wild-west gunfight on crack. Several rounds hit Rodika in the chest and knocked her away from Eva.
Wolf punched the ground in anger. Then he got up and joined the attack, followed shortly thereafter by the others. After years on the Russian front where a missed shot meant the difference between life and death, the men were expert marksmen. The vampire’s bodies could withstand a great deal of punishment, but within a minute, all three were on the ground.
As the soldiers approached, only Rodika still stirred. “This is not over,” she warned.
“It is for you, bitch,” Thor replied. He pressed his machine gun against her chest and fired a quick burst into her heart. Rodika’s body shuddered and then grew still.
“Did you see their teeth?” Dieter asked. “Vampires exist, they really exist.” The kid was amazed—the night was turning into the greatest adventure of his life.
“Relax, cadet,” Wolf said. “This isn’t a game.”
Sebastian kissed Eva on the forehead. His heart soared when she opened her eyes.
Axel shook his head and walked away. “Real fucking sweet,” he said. “The frog prince just kissed the princess or however that stupid story goes. We risked our lives and she’ll get to live another hour or two. Wonderful. Now, let’s get out of here.”
Unseen by the men, Zina rose to her feet behind them. With lightening speed, she grabbed a torch from the wall and slammed it into Axel’s face!
“Arrrggghhhhhhhh!!!!!!” Axel screamed and fell to his knees as the blaze engulfed his hair.
Klaus ripped off his jacket and doused the flames as the others sent bullets tearing into Zina’s flesh, knocking the vampire to the ground.
Thor screamed when Rodika and Dumitra got up. “Holy shit! They don’t die!”
“That’s because they’re fucking vampires!” Wolf shouted as he dragged Axel out of the cavern. “Cover me!”
The men provided accurate cover fire, but they were quickly learning that a high velocity slug could only knock a vampire down, not kill one. Once they ran out of ammo, the evening was going to get complicated.
“Run!” Sebastian screamed.
31
Stalingrad
Sebastian pulled Eva along by the hand as he ran down the tunnel after the other men. As catatonic as she seemed at times, he considered himself lucky that he could get her to move extremely fast when danger was present.
Suddenly, Eva broke free from his grasp and darted down a small passageway that the others had missed. Sebastian cursed and went after her. Klaus saw the detour out of the corner of his eye, but he was far too scared and out-of-breath to care. How ironic it would be to escape from vampires only to die of a heart attack, he thought.
The ultimate question that one faces when you are running for your life and you begin to tire is—when do you turn around and fight the monster? That question was answered for the men when the tunnel floor went out from under them.
They rolled and they tumbled and they tossed and slid and fell down a steep, muddy slope and crashed into a heap at the bottom. That fiasco was followed by a panicked scramble to untangle themselves and grab weapons.
The men aimed their guns up the slope, expecting to be attacked at any second. The only sounds to be heard were the men’s labored breathing and Dieter muttering the Lord’s Prayer in the background.
After a few minutes of terror, the men relaxed. “I think we got away,” Wolf said.
Klaus verbalized their collective thoughts. “Not all of us did. That evil girl led Sebastian to the vampires.”
Wolf scoffed. “Old man, I fought with Sebastian through three miserable campaigns in Poland, Lithuania and Russia. He is as tough as nails and as lucky as a ladybug. He can look out for himself.”
“I respect his experience, Major. But he didn’t fight vampires in Operation Barbarossa.”
Wolf didn’t respond. Klaus was right. Prior combat experience had little relevance now; they were dealing with the supernatural. In the background, Axel coughed violently, the sound of a dying man.
“Keep watch,” Wolf said, thankful for the change of subject. He knelt down and gently pulled the pilot’s hands from his face. Axel’s face was charred and disfigured. He had seen many severe injuries in Russia, but he had never seen anyone survive very long with burns that bad.
“How do I look?” Axel gasped.
“I’ve seen worse,” Wolf lied. “As soon as we get out of here, we’ll get you a doctor. You’ll be okay.”
Axel appreciated the kind sentiment, but he knew that he was dying. There were few doctors and no functioning hospitals left in Berlin. If they were captured, the Russians wouldn’t send him to a medic, they would throw him into a ditch. One way or another, he didn’t have long to live and he had come to terms with it. In fact, his main desire was to speed up the process. “Kill me,” he moaned, desperately hoping that one of the other men had the strength to do what he
could not do himself.
Wolf leaned in close, but he had no intention of assisting a suicide. Instead, he removed his Iron Cross and pinned it onto Axel’s jacket. I spent years trying to survive this war for my own selfish reasons, he thought. Axel got hurt trying to save someone else. He paid a steep price for his bravery.
“Sir, I don’t...” Axel said.
“You deserve it far more than I do.”
The wounded pilot looked down at the medal and was overcome with emotion. “Thank you, sir,” he gasped. Tears rolled down his blackened face.
“No son, thank you,” Wolf replied. He covered him with a blanket and rejoined Klaus on point.
“How long does he have?” the old man asked.
“He’ll be dead in an hour.”
Klaus closed his eyes and sighed deeply.
Axel heard the prediction about his imminent demise and it gave him the strength to speak up. “Klaus, you skinny son-of-a-bitch! I should have shot you twice!”
Klaus laughed. Picking up on Wolf’s puzzled look, he sat down and told his story. “Axel and I were in the Sixth Army. Hitler ordered General Paulus to hold Stalingrad while the Russians surrounded us. It was a stupid military strategy based upon megalomaniacal tendencies. As the situation deteriorated, Hitler promoted Paulus to field marshal simply because no German or Prussian field marshal had ever surrendered before—he wanted to shame Paulus into fighting to the last man.”
“That’s unbelievable,” Wolf replied.
“And it’s true,” Klaus said. “We were starving, freezing and running out of ammunition. To make matters worse, we had to rely on that fat bastard Göring and his Luftwaffe to fly the food and ammo in. It was dangerous work and they never came close to bringing in enough supplies. Between the miserable Russian winter and the thousands of antiaircraft guns that were brought in to shoot our supply planes down, we were doomed.”