Sheppard was pleased that so far they hadn’t drawn any unwanted attention to themselves. He knew fumbling around in no man’s land could be a recipe for disaster. Thankfully, their luck held. They quietly passed through the Mongolian yurts running along the lakeside and were soon strolling through the small town itself. There was a total absence of electrical lighting, making the area look more foreboding than it truly was. Sheppard noticed that like many towns in the western U.S., the narrow streets were nothing more than dirt tracks with wooden boards placed down to keep the dust at bay in the summer and the roads passable in the winter.
Lights suddenly came up from behind them, casting long eerie shadows out in front of them. Sheppard waved for his people to step off the road as a truck loaded with Reimer’s men sped past them, heading for the fort. A pang of anxiety filled Sheppard. He worried that they might stop and want to ask them what they were up to; instead he could hear singing coming from the back of the truck. As it drove passed them, Sheppard saw that the men were all blind stinking drunk. Looking away, Sheppard grinned…thank God for drunken amateurs. The truck continued down the dusty road. Soon the vehicle arrived at the fort’s front gates, which after a few moments slowly opened, letting the truck inside.
Sheppard pulled his compatriots off the street; they quickly took cover behind the darkened corner of a two-story wooden building. “We’re never going to get in through the front door. We need to find another way inside,” Sheppard said.
Orlov said, “Sir, I could ask around if you want. I don’t know if my Mongolian will pass, but it’s worth a try.”
“Well we can’t sit here all night. I agree we need to do something,” Sheppard said. “All right then, you head back into the peasants’ part of town and see what you can find out. Zakharov and I will move around the outside of the fort and see if we can find another way inside. Let’s meet back with Ivanov at first light,” said Sheppard.
Orlov shook Sheppard’s hand, and then, with a wink at Elena, he tilted his fur cap down at a rakish angle and sauntered off into the night.
“All right, Elena, let’s get to work,” said Sheppard as they walked down the darkened road towards the fort.
Clouds filled the night sky, blocking out any light from the moon. Sheppard was thankful for the cover as they made their way to the bottom of the rocky hill. Using it as a start point, they started to walk carefully all around the hill in the hope of finding an unguarded way inside. The ground was rocky and uneven, making the going slow and treacherous. Zakharov fell hard a few times, but through gritted teeth, she managed to keep up. The hours seemed to race by. Time was not on their side. Sheppard started to become frustrated that they hadn’t found so much as a mouse hole in the wall so far. They had gone almost the whole way around the fort. Looking up, Sheppard could see that they were on the lakeside of the structure when he unexpectedly stepped into a stream of cold running water. He saw that water was coming out of a stone culvert built into the side of the hill. Raising his hand, Zakharov saw the signal and froze in place. Sheppard unslung his rifle and then cautiously followed the stream up the side of the hill until he came to the drain. Sheppard’s heart raced. He was beginning to worry that he might attract the attention from someone watching on the parapets, but so far, no one had challenged them. Crouching down, he edged forward. The demi-moon culvert was not very large and was protected by an old iron gate. Sheppard could feel the seconds racing past him. Quickly, he stepped into the ice-cold water and felt along the bars of the iron-gate, trying to find a hole or perhaps a small gap that he could try to slip under the metal barrier. His hands soon became numb from the freezing water. Sheppard cursed under his breath. He couldn’t find a weakness in the gate. He was growing colder by the second and was about to give in when his hands reached the rocky bottom and found that the gate did not go all the way down. Taking a deep breath, Sheppard dropped onto his knees in the bitterly cold water, and felt along the whole length of the gate and discovered a gap that was just big enough for a man to slide under. Quickly climbing out of the stream, soaking wet, Sheppard waved for Zakharov to join him. While she climbed down the hill in the dark, Sheppard stripped out of his soaked clothes, down to his underclothes.
Zakharov was surprised to see Sheppard barely wearing anything at all when she arrived beside him, but said nothing.
Sheppard said, “Elena, I think I have found a way inside. I want you to stay here and guard this entrance. If I am not back in fifteen minutes, leave. Find Ivanov, tell him what has happened and then all of you leave here and report to Colonel Shipov. Ok? No more than fifteen minutes,” Sheppard said, firmly stressing the time.
“Yes, I understand, fifteen minutes,” quietly replied Elena, nodding.
Sheppard quietly stepped back into the freezing water. It felt like a thousand freezing cold needles were poking his exposed skin all at the same time.
Elena unexpectedly leant over and kissed Sheppard’s forehead. “Come back safe, Captain Sheppard.”
Sheppard wasn’t used to a soldier kissing him, but from Elena, it was a pleasant surprise. Giving her a quick wink, Sheppard took a couple of deep breaths to fill his lungs and then disappeared under the cold black water. Reaching down, he wiggled his way under the metal gate and then blindly started to feel his way along the slime-coated sides of the ancient stone culvert. The flow of the stream wasn’t strong, which meant Sheppard didn’t have to expend too much precious energy or oxygen to propel himself forward. After about thirty seconds, his lungs started to ache from the lack of fresh oxygen. He knew he could not go on much further. At school, he had once been able to hold his breath underwater for up to ninety seconds, but that was a long time ago. Sheppard knew that he would have to turn back or risk a horrible death by drowning inside the narrow confines of the culvert.
Kicking his legs, Sheppard felt his feet hit the rocky ground. The culvert was narrowing. Raising his hand, Sheppard felt air. Quickly twisting his body, he stuck his head out of the water. It was pitch-black, wherever he was. His lungs couldn’t take it anymore; exhaling, Sheppard took in several deep breaths. Moving his hands around in the dark, Sheppard realized he had only found a small cubbyhole in the culvert. It was a dead end. He would have to carry on underwater if he wanted to find the end of the tunnel. Sheppard had no idea how much further the tunnel went along. Guessing that he still had some time left before he had to turn back, he took several more deep breaths to replenish his lungs with precious oxygen and then once more dove beneath the surface of the ice-cold water. Kicking his legs, Sheppard propelled himself along for another few seconds, when he noticed the water was becoming lighter. At last, he was coming to the end of his struggle.
Slowly, hesitantly, Sheppard lifted his head out of the water and saw that he had emerged inside a dimly lit room. His nostrils were instantly assaulted by a disgusting fetid odour permeating the air. Sheppard recognised the smell at once—it was the stench of death. Fighting the urge to vomit, he quickly hauled himself out of the water and looked around. He was alone. It didn’t take long for his eyes to adjust to the dim light; with horror Sheppard realised that he must have come up inside the fort’s dungeon. He was happy to be out of the freezing water and rubbed his arms quickly to bring back his circulation. Even in the weak light, he could make out several cells along each side of the room. Sheppard drew his knife from his belt and then cautiously walked over to the nearest cell. He peered inside and saw what appeared to be a decrepit-looking man in rags curled up in the corner. Moving along, he observed the same horrible sight in three other cells. He couldn’t tell for certain if any of the occupants were alive, but from the overpowering stench, he knew that most of them were either dead, or close to it.
Realising that he couldn’t help any of the prisoners escape through the culvert, he decided to push on, quietly moving along the wall until he found the door leading out of the room. Hoping beyond hope, Sheppard tried the door handle. Slowly, it turned and with a jarring creak from its rusty hinges,
that Sheppard thought could be heard all over the fort, it opened out into a darkened hallway. Sheppard warily peered down the hallway. He was relieved to see that he was alone. Stepping out into the poorly lit, narrow stone hallway, Sheppard took a few breaths to clear his lungs and calm his nerves. Closing the door behind him, Sheppard crept down the hallway hugging the wall, his knife at the ready. His bare feet were still frozen from the cold water and felt odd on the marbled stone floor. Coming to the end of the hallway, he found a set of stairs. He had to find out where they led. Carefully, he began to climb them.
Gustav Reimer sat prostate on the floor in front of his young captive, Nadya Alekseev, and waited silently for her to acknowledge his presence. Reimer knew she was toying with him again, but he simply didn’t care. She was far too valuable a possession to dispense with as he did so many of his opponents. He had spared her life and that of her grandmother, while many others that he had captured over the years were either sold into slavery, dead or slowly rotting away in his dungeon. Reimer truly believed in his heart that she had the gift of foretelling the future, and he needed her to keep telling him his fortune, if he was going to stay alive.
“Yes, Prince Reimer? Why have you come here?” Nadya asked, without looking at him.
“I cannot sleep again, my dear. You told me that two forces were coming here, that they would be here in two days. My child, two days have come and gone, and I see no one outside the fort’s walls,” said Reimer his voice trembling.
A hand appeared from out of Nadya’s voluminous red outfit. “Your cross, give it to me,” ordered Nadya.
“Certainly, certainly,” stammered Reimer as he removed his cherished silver cross from around his neck. Pausing to kiss it, he delicately placed it on the pillow in front of Nadya.
Reaching down gracefully, Nadya picked up the cross and clenched it in her hands for a moment, before placing it back on the red silk pillow. “My prince, they are still coming. From the north, an army will come. They will soon be here. I see that they are very angry with you, and they intend to teach you a lesson,” lectured Nadya.
“Yes, yes, Red bastards, no doubt! What about the other force? Tell me, I need to know about the one who comes for you?” asked Reimer, like a child pleading with a parent.
Nadya paused and then continued. “He will be coming too, from the east, to…to bargain for my freedom.”
Reimer jumped onto his feet, his eyes ablaze. “Ha! He has no chance in hell of that,” shouted Reimer, frantically looking around, as if they weren’t alone. “He can bargain all he wants. I won’t ever give you up…never! As for the Reds, I always suspected that they’d come after me one day. Well, this fort is far too well built and has more than sufficient supplies to last out a long siege. These people are all wasting their time. You’ll see. Oh, this is all good news. I thought something bad was going to happen. Thank you, my child. I shan’t bother you again tonight,” said Reimer giddily.
Reimer took back his cross, kissed it, reverently placed it around his neck, and then departed the room, confident that no matter what, that he would be triumphant tomorrow.
Nadya Alekseev rose from her pillows, removed her ornate red and gold hat and then with a snarl, she angrily threw it across the room. Spinning on her heels towards her grandmother, she instantly brought a finger to her lips. Looking back towards the closed door, Nadya carefully moved to the door and listened for a minute. Satisfied that they were alone, she moved over to her grandmother and took her old hands in her own. They were cold. Nadya knew her grandmother wasn’t well, but she would never talk about it.
“I lied to that horrible little toad. Our savior, he’s here, right now, he’s inside the fort. I saw it,” Nadya said excitedly, in hushed tones. “I also saw other men and women, not here, but close, they won’t give in until we are free.”
“Will we be leaving tonight?”’ asked the elder Alekseev, looking tired and worn.
Nadya looked into her grandmother’s eyes. “No, I didn’t see that, but I sensed that this horrible nightmare will all be over soon,” said Nadya. She then paused to collect her thoughts. Her normally bright ice-blue eyes suddenly grew dark. “Before this all ends there will be a lot of bloodshed and many people will die on my behalf. Grandmamma, people are going to kill and die for me. I don’t want them to, but they are going to do it anyway.”
Mrs. Alekseev reached out and lovingly wrapped her arms around Nadya, pulling her close, holding her tightly to her chest. “My child, I know this all sounds so tragic, but these people coming to help you do so because like your grandfather before them, they believe it is the right thing to do,” said Mrs. Alekseev as she ran her hands through Nadya’s long blonde hair. “No matter what happens my child we must not let them down.”
Elena Zakharov was becoming restless. She had remained at the culvert for far longer than the fifteen minutes she was told to. Elena knew that she should have left at least ten minutes ago, but she couldn’t just leave the man who had saved her life. Looking to the eastern horizon, Elena saw the telltale signs of dawn were creeping up, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before the sun gave her position away. Looking over her shoulder, Elena saw a rotting wooden boat on the lakeshore. If she had to, she could use it for cover. Mumbling a prayer her mother used to say to her as a child, Elena judged that she could afford to wait another five minutes before she had to leave her post and abandon Captain Sheppard to his fate.
Suddenly, like a fish jumping out of the water, Sheppard shot straight up out of the stream, frightening Elena out of her wits making her tumble backwards.
Sheppard took a deep breath to fill his aching lungs.
“Damn you, sir, I almost shot you,” Elena admonished him.
The cold grey light of dawn was upon them. “I think you waited more than fifteen minutes, Private Zakharov,” said Sheppard as he reached for his boots. “Thanks for that, but we have to go now. It’ll soon be daylight.”
“I couldn’t leave you all alone. That’s how our sentries died,” said Elena, staring away.
Sheppard reached over and patted her hand. “It’s all right, Elena, I understand, but we need to get going,” said Sheppard, as he bundled the remainder of his clothes under his arm. “Head for the nearest cover; I’ll finish getting dressed down there.”
Stumbling across the broken terrain, Sheppard and Zakharov made a beeline for a small copse of pine trees. As soon as they got under the cover of the trees, Sheppard started to rub his cold and aching limbs trying to bring back his circulation and then quickly threw on his soiled and rank clothes.
“Sir, you were gone for a very long time. Did you find a way in?” asked Elena.
“That I did. It’s not easy, but if you can swim, you can get through,” explained Sheppard. “The culvert comes out inside the fort’s dungeon. It’s horrible and disgusting in there. I’m not even sure how many people are dead or alive down there, poor souls,” said Sheppard as he thought back to the rancid smell of death. “It’s terrible, but I don’t think we could ever help any of them.”
“Sir, did you find a way out of the dungeon?”
“Yeah, I sure did. There’s a door that leads into an unguarded passageway, which takes you up a flight of stairs that eventually comes out into the main courtyard. I didn’t go any further than that for fear of being caught, but it’s a workable solution for our problem of how to get in and out unnoticed.”
“Are we coming back tonight?” asked Zakharov.
“Yes, once it’s dark. You, myself, and Orlov will come back, slip inside, find the girl, and be gone before anyone is the wiser.” Sheppard finished getting dressed, grabbed Elena by the arm and said, “Now let’s get moving.”
As the night gave way to dawn, they walked through downtown Turta at a brisk pace and were just about to make their way towards the Mongolian fisherman’s settlement, when, off in the distance, Sheppard heard the firing of large calibre guns. Like thunder, it rolled across the open steppes. His heart instantly began to ra
ce.
“Down,” he yelled at Zakharov, pushing her to the ground behind a small mound of manure.
Seconds later, the distinct whistle of incoming artillery shells seemed to fill the air, followed almost immediately by ear-shattering explosions as buildings in the centre of Turta were blown to pieces. Screaming in fear, Elena threw her hands over her head and tried to make herself as flat as possible behind the mound.
Splintered wood and rocks flew everywhere. Within minutes, Turta was systematically blasted apart as the highly skilled Red gunners slowly shifted their deadly aim across the town, destroying everything they shot at. The wooden structures were too fragile to withstand the impact from the powerful 76mm artillery pieces. Flames soon broke out and a raging fire quickly engulfed what was left of the town. Five minutes after the deadly barrage had commenced it abruptly stopped.
The silence was to be short lived.
Sheppard lifted his head and saw that most of the town was no longer there. Flames had consumed nearly all the buildings within the town, and a heavy black plume of smoke drifted into the early-morning sky. People staggered about stunned and bleeding, calling out for their loved ones missing inside the horrible conflagration that had once been their town...their home. Slowly standing up, Sheppard brushed off the dirt covering him and then reached down to grab Elena by the arm to help her up.
“Come on, Elena, we have to get out of here. It looks like the Reds are here too. Undoubtedly, they will soon be coming to finish what they started,” said Sheppard, pissed that they also now had to contend with the Russian Army.
Elena stood, her face a mess. Tears combined with dirt made her once pretty looks completely disappear. “What happened?” she stammered.
The Last Eagle (A Christopher Sheppard Adventure Book 1) Page 16