The Last Eagle (A Christopher Sheppard Adventure Book 1)

by Richard Turner

  Comrade Menzhinsky

  Grusian read the note over several times, memorizing every word. Taking a lit match, he burnt the message until only a blackened sliver of paper remained. He let the charred paper slowly fall to the floor of the car, then crushed what little was left of it with his heel. Grusian remembered the name Alekseev and thought back to the day years ago when he had shot General Alekseev as a traitor and enemy of the people. So his granddaughter was alive and inside the fort, and now he would get a chance to get his hands on her as well. Grusian was pleased with this latest turn of events. He opened the door and jumped out of the armoured car. He then called the young security platoon commander over.

  “Comrade Lieutenant, get your men back into their cars,” ordered Grusian

  “Yes, sir, immediately,” the junior officer replied eagerly.

  Lieutenant Titov was the last to get into his car. He slid in beside Grusian and then turned to the Colonel. “Where to, sir?”

  “Back to our train, Comrade Lieutenant, I need to sort a few things out. But keep your men on a minute’s notice to move,” Grusian said, a plan forming inside his head.

  CHAPTER 17

  THE PRIZE

  Night was falling.

  Sheppard rubbed some charcoal on his face and hands to blacken his skin. He then handed the blackened stick to Orlov, before checking his kit one more time to make sure that everything was packed tight and close to his body so it wouldn’t rattle around, possibly betraying their movements in the dark. Confident that he was prepared, Sheppard examined Elena and Orlov in the same manner and was satisfied that they, also, were as ready as they ever would be.

  “Good. We should be able to move around out there as quietly as church mice,” said Sheppard confidently.

  “Sir, I still don’t understand why I cannot go with you,” objected Ivanov.

  “Corporal, we’ve been over this. I need you and Private Semyonov to head back, link up with Colonel Shipov and then bring him forward to help us get out of here as fast as possible.”

  “But—”

  Sheppard raised his hand. “Ivanov, this is important. You know the ground and the situation out here. I may need you to guide Colonel Shipov to us without having him blunder into entire the Red Army spread out down there.”

  “Yes, sir,” Ivanov acquiesced dejectedly.

  “Now, leave three horses for us. Tie them up and take the other two with you,” said Sheppard, offering his hand to Ivanov.

  Ivanov shook Sheppard’s hand. “Good luck, sir.” He then left Sheppard to get on with his business.

  Following the route in his mind, Sheppard led his party through the woods and down towards the lake’s edge. He was thankful that dark storm clouds had appeared late in the day, making it near pitch-black as they carefully moved around in the open ground. Sheppard, his rifle at the ready, prayed that Reds wouldn’t have patrols moving in their direction. He doubted they would run into any Reds, but just in case, he ordered his group to have their knives ready. Any killing done tonight would have to be done silently.

  When they arrived at the shoreline, Sheppard quietly told Elena and Orlov to remain where they were while he crept forward to try to find the abandoned canoe. Sheppard’s heart was racing. He felt himself break out in a sweat as he moved alone in the dark searching for the boat. After a few minutes of looking, Sheppard found the abandoned canoe exactly where he had observed it earlier in the day. Letting out a deep sigh of relief, Sheppard retraced his steps, collecting his two soldiers and then led them back to the waiting canoe.

  “All right, strip down and place your clothes and weapons inside the canoe,” Sheppard ordered, barely above a whisper.

  Silently, they stripped down to their undergarments and then placed their clothes and rifles inside the boat.

  “We’ll hang on to the sides of the canoe, swim out a hundred yards into the lake and then head for the fort. As far as I could tell, the Reds hadn’t yet placed any positions on the lakeside of the fort. If you have any questions, now’s your time to ask,” said Sheppard.

  Both of his compatriots shook their heads. With that, Sheppard stepped into the cold water. It was damned cold, but not as bad as the stream running out of the fort, thought Sheppard. Soon they were all in the lake, heading out as quietly as they could into the still, black water.

  General Platov stood outside his headquarters finishing off one of his imported Turkish cigars. He didn’t smoke much but enjoyed the odd one from time to time after a particularly long and stressful day. Throwing the butt of the cigar on the ground, Platov crushed it with his heel and was about to go inside and give orders for the next day’s activities, when he saw a large shape, like a black bear charging towards him, race out of the darkness. Barely jumping back just in time, Platov was surprised to see a platoon of Putilov Armored Cars speed past him without their lights on, heading down towards the destroyed town of Turta.

  “Bloody OGPU bastards,” Platov yelled, waving his fist in the air at the rear car. Storming inside his command post, he called for his signals officer. “Captain, get onto Moscow and ask them what those bloody security arses are up to and what I am allowed to do about it and get Colonel Raevsky in here immediately,” Platov barked. Whatever was going on, Platov didn’t like it one bit.

  A small, nervous-looking lieutenant colonel entered the command post. “Yes, Comrade General?”

  “My dear Stepan, I want you to change our plans,” said Platov, calming himself.

  The lieutenant colonel took out a small notebook from his pocket to take down Platov’s orders. “What you like done Comrade General?” asked Raevsky, the brigade's operations officer.

  “Move up our timetable by one full day. I want our bombardment of the fort to begin precisely one hour before first light tomorrow and our assault to commence immediately after the last round is fired.”

  Raevsky removed his glasses, started to clean them. “Sir, we had planned for a two-day bombardment before we even tried to storm the fort. Without an adequate soaking of the fort, our casualties will be much higher than anticipated.”

  “Stepan, casualties don’t interest me—only success does. The security bastards are up to something, and I don’t trust them as far as I can spit. I want this to be a Red Army operation not theirs,” said Platov angrily.

  Raevsky knew the discussion was over. “Comrade General, I will draft up the necessary orders for your signature immediately. We will meet all of your expectations. I guarantee that the fort will be yours tomorrow,” Raevsky said, before saluting his superior. Shaking his head, Raevsky walked out the room, his mind a blur of calculations.

  Platov had a deep hatred of the state security apparatus; too many of his friends and colleagues had simply vanished at the hands of the OGPU. He didn’t like them being here the same time he was. It made him edgy and nervous. Looking over his shoulder at his signals officer, Platov unleashed his anger on the young man as he waited for his answer from Moscow…why was the OPGU here?

  The cold water seemed to sap the strength from Sheppard. He was becoming tired. Even though he tried to conserve his strength by hanging off the side of the canoe, his body was steadily becoming numb from the cold. He hadn’t swum this far in an awfully long time and was feeling it in his arms. Looking over towards the fort, he judged that they were roughly lined up with the centre of the fort’s lakeside wall; with that, they turned towards the shore. Although they still had quite some distance to go, Sheppard felt that once they were on dry land, that they needed to rest for a few minutes before plunging into the ice-cold water of the culvert once again.

  Suddenly, out of the darkness came the bloated carcass of a dead yak, floating past them with its rigid legs facing up into the air. Sheppard and party watched the dead animal float past them, hoping that it didn’t portent some ominous sign before continuing on towards the shore.

  “I didn’t like that at all,” mumbled Orlov, crossing himself in the water.

  “Be quiet,” sn
apped Sheppard. He didn’t want to be caught out in the open and shot like fish in a barrel.

  After about five minutes, while they were no more than one hundred yards from the shore, Sheppard heard distant voices from somewhere in the dark. Raising his finger, he quietly told his compatriots to quit moving. Floating motionless on the lake, listening intently, Sheppard could make out two soldiers idly chatting away, apparently unaware that there was someone out on the lake. He cursed quietly and hoped that there were no other Red sentries moving along the water’s edge. The soldiers lit up cigarettes, betraying their position in the dark. Knowing that they couldn’t float around on the lake all night long, he quietly told Orlov and Elena to start swimming, very slowly, once more. Using the Reds’ cigarettes as a marker, Sheppard aimed the canoe towards land, about two hundred yards away from the soldiers.

  Five more minutes passed before Sheppard felt rocks under his bare feet. The Reds had moved away, allowing them the chance to come ashore. Slowly, Sheppard stood out of the water and along with his companions, quietly pulled their canoe out of the lake. Covered by Elena, Sheppard and Orlov grabbed some branches from a nearby tree and tried to disguise their canoe as best they could. Grabbing their clothes and weapons, Sheppard carefully led them towards the base of the hill. They moved along, silently hugging the ground, hoping and praying not to be seen by the Reds or anyone on guard atop the fort’s walls. Stealth took time, time Sheppard knew they could ill-afford to waste.

  Moving along, Sheppard judged that they were no more than about one hundred yards from the culvert, when suddenly he heard footsteps clumsily moving around in the dark. He froze, trying to determine precisely where the noise was coming from. To Sheppard’s dismay, the footsteps were getting louder and they were coming directly towards them. Crouching down, Sheppard saw the two men that they had seen earlier smoking and talking to one another as they walked blindly towards him. Foolish amateurs, he thought to himself. Turning towards Orlov, Sheppard indicated to him with his knife and then quietly told Elena what to do as soon as the two Red soldiers were within a few feet of them.

  Her heart pounding wildly in her heart, Elena prepared herself. When the men were no more than an arm’s length away, she stood and let out a gasp of surprise at the two soldiers.

  “Halt! You there don’t move,’” said one of the Reds as he brought his weapon off his shoulder.

  “Well, what do we have here?” said the other, leering at Elena’s wet shapely form.

  Elena just stood there quietly in her soaking wet skin-tight underclothes as the Reds moved towards her.

  “My God, she’s practically naked,” said the lead Red soldier.

  “Well, whoever said sentry duty was dull doesn’t know about her,” said the other soldier. “Do you think she’s from the fort?”

  “Boris, I don’t know and I don’t care. I’ve been on the border for over two years, and this little angel looks damned good to me. You’re coming with us, sweetheart. The boys back in the lines will be happy to see you,” said the lead Red as he reached for Elena’s arm.

  “No, please just let me go,” said Elena, stepping back as both men tried grabbing her arms.

  “No way, girl, I want some of …”

  With lightning-fast speed, Sheppard and Orlov leapt out of the dark, like vengeful wraiths. In seconds, it was over. Both Reds were dead.

  Sheppard wiped his blade on his wet clothing and then looked down at the dead men. “Float their bodies out into the lake,” he said to Orlov in a quiet voice. He then walked over to Elena and put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

  She placed her hand on top of Sheppard’s and looked him in the eyes. “I’ll be glad when we are back on our train and heading home.”

  “So will I” replied Sheppard.

  Orlov returned a few minutes later, picked up the dead soldiers’ rifles, which he took and quietly slid them into the lake, erasing their enemies’ presence from view.

  Sheppard looked at his people and said, “Okay, let’s hope that’s it for sentries. It’s getting late, so let’s get a move on.”

  Sheppard moved towards the culvert using what precious cover there was. He knew that the two soldiers would soon be missed and that more Reds would soon come in search of their missing comrades. He knew that they could never leave using the lake. Another way would have to be found.

  They soon arrived at the culvert. Sheppard stepped into the freezing water and checked that the iron grate was still open, thankful to find that no one had tampered with their only point of entry.

  He then turned to his compatriots. “Now, as I told you before, it’s bloody cold in the water. Plug your weapon’s barrel and put your clothes inside your small packs. Hold both of them above your head and follow me. It’ll take a minute or two to get inside,” said Sheppard.

  With that, Sheppard dropped silently into the stream, his heart jumping as the cold water enveloped him, momentarily taking his breath away. Orlov and Zakharov shook hands and then joined him in the water.

  “Stay right behind me and do as I do,” Sheppard instructed them. He told them to take a couple of deep breaths to fill their lungs with oxygen, and then quietly disappeared beneath the cold, dark water.

  Dimitri Grusian slowly got out of his armored car, a white handkerchief waving in his hand as he carefully walked towards the locked main gate of the fort. He was bathed in the light from the car’s headlights; his shadow loomed large, like an apparition, against the barred gate. Grusian’s hands were raised; he was not wearing his sidearm. He knew he was taking a phenomenal gamble, and hoped that he didn’t get shot by a nervous renegade soldier for it.

  “Hello, inside the fort,” he yelled up into the night.

  No one answered.

  “I said hello in there. I know you are listening. My name is Colonel Dimitri Grusian, and I have been sent by Moscow to negotiate with Colonel Reimer.”

  The sound of a machine gun being loaded somewhere above him in the dark caught Grusian’s attention.

  “Wait there and don’t try to move, or I’ll have you killed,” called a voice from the walls of the fort.

  “Not a problem. I have nowhere to go,” Grusian called back.

  He stood there for a good ten minutes wondering what could possibly be taking so long, when he heard voices behind the locked gates, and then suddenly the gate was unlocked. The heavy wooden doors slowly opened a crack. Out stepped a bearded man wearing old Czarist Major’s rank.

  “You come with me,” said the major, pointing at Grusian. “Your men must stay out here. If they do anything foolish, I’ll have you all killed.”

  Grusian nodded his understanding and then turned to the security lieutenant. “Stay here until I return. Do as they say. I shan’t be long.” With a devilish grin on his face, Grusian turned to face the major. “Lead on.”

  Sheppard broke through the black surface of the pool inside the fort’s dungeon and took in several deep breaths of stale, putrid air. His chest ached from having been underwater so long, so he took in several deep breaths of the foul air to replenish his empty lungs. The journey through the culvert had seemed worse to him this time, but he had at least made it. The stench inside the prison was still overpowering; Sheppard tried his best to breathe through his mouth. Looking around, as before, he saw no one.

  Their luck was holding.

  Quickly climbing out of the numbing water, Sheppard turned about and reached down to help Elena and then Orlov out of the freezing pool and onto the filthy prison floor. Both were out of breath and shivering from their long exposure to the underground river. Sheppard told them to get dressed back into their dry clothes before coming down with hypothermia. Once dressed, Sheppard checked over them over, then with a nod from Sheppard, they made ready to leave.

  A revoltingly large brown rat scurried past Sheppard and looked up at him as if to say that it was the biggest and toughest rat in the dungeon. Seeing it, Orlov kicked the rat into the water, where it landed with a s
plash. The rat, unhurt, simply surfaced and swam away to the safety of a far cell.

  Sheppard quietly moved to the door and then carefully opened it. Peering out, he was grateful to see that they were alone. Sheppard indicated for his companions to follow him to the edge of the stairs. Looking up, Sheppard saw that, as before, the door was closed, the stairway still unguarded.

  Barely above a whisper, Sheppard said, “Now, I know we look grubby enough to blend in with Reimer’s men, but it won’t take long, should we get stopped for any reason, for them to realize that we don‘t belong here. So here’s the drill, if we get split up for any reason, any reason at all, don’t wait for the others, leave immediately and head out the way we came in. One person by themselves should be able to sneak past the Reds. Try to make it back to the horses, head west, find Colonel Shipov, and tell him what has been going on.”

  “Understood,” his compatriots replied in unison.

  Sheppard removed the cloth from the end of his rifle’s barrel and then loaded a round into the chamber. Taking a deep breath, he slowly ascended the stairs, finding the door still unlocked. He popped the door slightly ajar and looked out onto the courtyard of the fort. Aside from a few soldiers walking back and forth in front of the main gate, Sheppard could only see a couple more men standing about talking and smoking beside a couple of trucks. Because skulking around was bound to draw attention, Sheppard simply opened the door and stepped out as if he was meant to be there. Followed by his companions, he walked over to the back of a canvas-covered truck and then halted.

  Sheppard whispered, “Orlov, I think we need to do two things at once. We need to find where they are holding the girl, and secondly, we need to ensure that we can get out of here in a hurry, should we need to.”

  “Makes sense, what do you want me to do, sir?” replied Orlov.

  “Elena and I will get the girl while you stay down here out of sight and keep our way out guarded.”