Warbirds of Mars: Stories of the Fight!

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Warbirds of Mars: Stories of the Fight! Page 46

by Неизвестный


  “Exactly,” Hunter agreed. “Or, to be more precise, the hidden refinery that’s been constructed beneath one of the largest local breweries. One which the Blue Sheik uses as his personal base.”

  Josie cocked an eyebrow. “The Blue Sheik? Let me guess: the local Martian Overlord.”

  “He rules Milwaukee and the surrounding counties like Hitler ruled Europe,” Hunter said.

  Wilson pointed to a set of photographs of the brewery on the wall behind him. “He’s in there, the top floor, with his harem of human women and a personal retinue of Martian higher-ups and Nazi goons. But nobody outside of that circle has seen him and lived. He just spreads his name through terror and death.”

  Hunter’s face became a mask of rage. “We have to get into that building, rescue those that we can, then kill the Blue Sheik and blow the whole facility and everything beneath it to hell.”

  Jack was sitting on the table, studying the scant photos and hand-drawn schematics. “Can we collapse the brewery on top of the refinery, crush them both from above?”

  Wilson shook his head. “I don’t think so. We don’t have anything close to that level of demolitions. We’d have to cut through several levels worth of support structures both above and below ground, over several buildings and foundations. And even in winter, that place has got to be crawling with Martians with ray guns—not to mention the Nazi guards. No, we think that we have stockpiled enough explosives to set off the materials in the underground refinery instead. The resulting explosions and fire should consume the entire operation and the brewery above it.”

  Jack said, “So the problem is sneaking enough of us in to the do the whole job, above and below, set enough explosives across the length of the underground site, and still get out alive.”

  “Basically,” Wilson agreed. “We have some German transports that can get our people to the entrance we’ve found to the underground. With your help, we might just manage to get enough men in to set the explosive timers without being noticed. Getting the slaves out alive is the real challenge.” He pointed to the photo of the brewery and shrugged. “But as to Hunter Noir’s plan to raid the Blue Sheik’s lair, we don’t even know how we might get inside the main building.”

  Josie looked at the blown-up pictures of the main brewery and took a step forward to study them better. After a few moments of silence, she smiled. “I’ll need an evening gown, a handbag, and the German Shepherd.”

  The small convoy of German transports rattled along the quiet morning streets of Milwaukee, driven by resistance members dressed as Nazi soldiers. In the back of the lead truck sat the Martian Killers. Josie looked at her comrades in arms and smiled at the strange fate that she had chosen. Hunter caught her gaze and nodded, and for the briefest moment, she wondered if some of the rumors about his ability to read minds were true.

  A series of knocks came from the cab and suddenly Mask and Hunter were in motion, checking weapons and tightening straps. They stood, Mask checking the scene without through the flap before nodding that all was well.

  “Mask and I will take to the rooftops and follow the other trucks until they get to the tunnels that take us into the refinery,” Hunter said. “We’re going to shadow them and do our best to make sure no Martian lives long enough to raise an alarm. Your truck goes on ahead to the brewery. You two sure you’re up to this?” he asked, his eyes taking a momentary look at Jack’s leg.

  Jack caught the look and adjusted the makeshift ‘Martian leg-brace’ that had been fashioned by the resistance to explain his limp. He nodded and donned the cap to his Nazi officer’s uniform, then laid a hand on Berger, Rhode’s dog. “I think we’re squared away.”

  “Then we’ll see you at the rendezvous when this is all over,” Hunter said. Mask opened the flap entrance and leapt out. Hunter reached in to either side of his black long coat with his hands and pulled his .45 and Mauser from their holsters. “Good luck,” was all he said, and then he was gone.

  Josie watched the place where Hunter and Mask had been, suddenly anxious and afraid. She looked at Berger and his strapped-on saddlebags with the word ‘BLIND’ stenciled onto each pocket, then fiddled with her walking stick, avoiding the impulse to voice her anxieties to Jack. She willed herself to calmness, breathing in and out with practiced ease as Hunter had shown her on several occasions.

  Jack had been silent for some time. When he finally spoke, it startled Josie out of her own reverie. “Why are you doing this, Josie?”

  She looked down at her curvaceous body draped in the tight-fitting gown. Josie had practically needed to be sown into it. “I should think it’s pretty obvious. I’m the only one with the…” she glanced at her ample bosom spilling out of the heaving neckline, “training.”

  “No,” Jack replied. “Not tonight. I mean, why this?” He shook the MP35 submachine gun for emphasis.

  Josie’s gaze lowered, not wanting to fight. “We’ve been over this, Jack.”

  “Without success.”

  She sighed. “Don’t you ever get tired of it?” She was surprised at the pleading tone in her own voice.

  Jack was confused. “Of what?”

  “Time,” Josie replied, “standing still. It’s been years since the Invasion, Jack, and the war was on for years before that. When can we get on with our lives; see a baseball game? Drive the length of Route 66? Build a home on Coney Island instead of under it?” She peeked at him through her long lashes and pulled a wisp of her hair back, her voice calming. “Talk about marriage and starting a family?”

  When silence was all that greeted her query, she looked at Jack, who was simply staring at her, dumbfounded. “I—I didn’t…I thought we…”

  Josie couldn’t do anything but laugh, exasperated. She threw her hair back and squared her shoulders, making a show of fixing the ever-present rose clipped into her brunette locks. “Things have to move on at some point, Jack. Maybe that’s why I joined the Martian Killers.”

  Jack nodded solemnly. “When I joined the service I was too young to think of much more than fighting the fascists. When the Martians invaded, well, I guess it just gave me more targets. I didn’t want to think about anything else after that.” He sniffed and went to wipe his nose on his sleeve before he remembered that he was in the Nazi uniform. “I didn’t have anything else.”

  Josie reflected a moment on the limited time she’d spent alone with the man she had taken as a lover. So much had happened since the day he’d walked in to the Double R, and yet so little had been said. “You’ve got me.”

  “Applesauce!” Jack cried, throwing an imaginary rock. Berger looked briefly in its direction and whined. “I know that, Josie.”

  She gave him a look. “Unless you’re waiting for something better to come along?”

  “What?” Jack actually looked shocked for a moment. “No! I… Look, Josie…”

  The truck stopped and a series of taps came from the cab again. Jack and Josie looked at each other.

  “I guess we’re on,” she said.

  Jack cocked the MP35. “Good luck, angel.”

  With her handbag in one hand and her walking stick in the other, Josie scooted along the bench to be closer to the flap at the back of the truck, ready to stand. Within moments the truck was through the checkpoint and pulling up to the front of the old brewery.

  Suddenly, Rhode was there in his German uniform, pulling the flap aside and helping Josie down from the truck. “Down,” he said quietly, and Berger jumped, though he stayed close to Jack, who was holding his leash. Jack limped to where Josie stood waiting, staring up slightly. The air was freezing in the pre-dawn light.

  “Okie, blind girl,” Jack said under his breath. “Time to get to work. We’ll be waiting for the high sign, ready to cover your escape and get us all out in the truck as soon as you hit the ground.” He handed the dog’s leash to Josie and made a show of pointing her toward the front doors of the main building in case anyone was watching, then set Josie in motion in that direction.

 
; “Give me two minutes once they’ve brought Berger back down to the kennels,” Josie whispered.

  She began walking toward the doors with a slightly uneven gait, letting Berger lead her as if she had been blind for some time. The dog seemed unhindered by the heavy satchels that had been strapped to his body, and he stopped and waited when his nose was to the entrance. When her stick reached the doors, Josie felt around for the handle, then pushed her way into the headquarters of the feared leader of the Martian Midwestern forces.

  It had been some time since Josie had been face to face with any of the alien invaders commonly referred to as ‘Martians.’ She had to fight to keep her gaze from focusing on any one of the three that were there when Berger led her in. She made an extra show of reaching out with the hand holding her purse when they raised their guns. One of them hissed. “Hello?” she said. “Please, I’m blind.”

  One of the alien guards gurgled something in what sounded like German. “The American language, fool,” another scolded him. “State your business, blind woman.”

  “I,” Josie faltered, trying to look ashamed. “I am a gift for the Blue Sheik.”

  The Martian’s three giant, black eyes peered at her and the door she had stepped out from the cold through, not lowering his gun. “A blind girl and a hound? A gift for the Sheik?”

  “The dog aides me and is to be returned to the officer’s kennels after I have been…accepted by the Sheik,” Josie said. “I am told it is a great honor…”

  “Take her,” The Martian ordered another. “You, take the hound.”

  One grabbed Josie by the wrists and forced her hands behind her back, though she managed not to drop her handbag. The creature’s three-fingered hands were large and cold. The third Martian took Berger and kept him on a short leash.

  “I will search her,” the leader said ominously, leering at the beautiful girl.

  “No,” Josie pleaded. “Please. I am a gift for the Sheik only!” The Martian growled a small laugh as his hands began roaming over her supple body. His long fingers began to slide beneath the hem of her neckline, pawing at her breasts. “The dress is part of the gift—it must not be ruined! Let me go!”

  “Quiet, girl,” he said, looming over her. “I will not damage the garment…much.”

  Josie struggled.

  Berger barked.

  “Scheisse!” came a Martian voice, and suddenly everything stopped.

  The German-speaking Martian holding Berger’s leash was kneeling down next to the dog and had opened one of the satchels, revealing a time bomb made of sticks of TNT. He looked up with what Josie could only describe as awe. “Der Saboteur! Search her!”

  The hands holding her wrists behind her locked like vises. Josie gasped. She was yanked back hard against the Martian holding her, and the purse nearly slipped out of her fingers again. She squirmed but knew that it was no use; the creature’s strength was more than a match for her feeble struggles. The leader turned on her and hissed like a viper about to strike, baring fangs from it’s dripping maw.

  “Pathetic Earthling,” he snarled. “Now you are mine.”

  Berger began barking uncontrollably as the scene turned hellish. The Martian’s clawed hands snatched at Josie’s gown, and it tore. He grasped a portion of the shreds and pulled, revealing more of her white flesh with a tearing sound. Josie could not help but scream when he reached for the slit up her leg and ripped it aside, baring her silk panties and stockings to his questing digits. A forked tongue lapped out, smearing bile across her torn brassier.

  A single high-pitched warble of a Martian blaster firing broke the moment, and the guard holding Josie’s wrists screeched. It released its grip on her to stroke the smoldering hole that had formed clean through its midriff, then collapsed. Josie’s freed hands came up in front of the shocked Martian leader to finish pulling the alien gun from inside her handbag and throw the purse aside. She smiled once, firing the Martian ray point-blank into the beast’s topmost eye, shearing off the top of his head in a spray of colored vaporization and green blood. She pointed the chrome blaster at the final Martian, standing there holding Berger’s leash with his jaw gaping. Josie fired, and the third guard fell to the tiled floor.

  Jack and Rhode burst through the door, aiming their guns and searching the room for targets. Fortunately no one else was close enough to hear Josie’s death ray, so all they found was Josie and three dead Martians.

  “Are you alright?” Jack asked, approaching her.

  Josie pulled at the ruined strips of what was left of her gown. “So much for my gift to the Sheik.”

  Jack sighed and looked down at Berger, who was wagging his tail and gazing up at his master. “Rhode, unhook the saddle bags and give them to me. No one’s raised an alarm so maybe we still have a shot at this.” He looked at Josie. “We stick to the plan. ‘The best lies are hidden behind a truth,’ Hunter says. I’ll take you up and present you to the Sheik as a captured saboteur. We plant the charges and we get out with as many hostages as we can before the whole complex is destroyed. Rhode?”

  “Yes, Captain?” Rhode answered.

  “Wait outside for the signal. We’ll need you to pick us up and get us out of here. Make yourself scarce till then. Josie, help me hide the bodies in a closet or something first, will ya?”

  The elevator doors opened at the fourth floor of the main brewery building. Josie stumbled in her high heels, pushed forward at ‘Nazi Jack’s’ insistence, with him holding her bound wrists behind her back and the Martian blaster in his right hand. Over his shoulder was the pair of saddlebags that had previously been strapped to Berger.

  “Move, fräulein!” Jack commanded, guiding her toward a set of formal looking stairs leading up to the roof level. At the top was a pair of Martian guards barring a set of double-doors.

  “What is this?” one of the Martians said in garbled English.

  “Resistance swine, caught trying to sabotage the brewery,” Jack answered.

  “The…brewery?” the guard asked.

  “Ja,” Jack said, then grasped Josie’s hair. “But she will make a fine addition to the Blue Sheik’s harem, eh? If he does not disembowel her first, ja?” Jack laughed heartily at this possibility. The Martian guards glanced at each other only briefly before joining in his mirth, and then they opened the doors to allow Jack to escort his prisoner in. Josie felt Jack nudge her forward, and she feigned a slight moan and lolled her head to one side, watching from the corner of her eye as one of the guards followed Jack in. Josie cursed their luck, wondering how low their chances at survival had sunk.

  Another set of doors opened and the next chamber was an expansive dining hall that had been converted into the Martian Overlord’s throne room. Josie could not see any guards among the room’s silken shades and colorful pillows, but there were plenty of other residents within the weirdly Middle-Eastern themed chamber. Most obvious were the dozen or so attractive women scattered about the room in various stages of undress, each in a unique color of silken garb, jewelry, and shackles. At least one of the poor souls was pregnant. A couple of visiting Martian Lords, denoted by the sashes they wore across their otherwise naked chests, rested among the futons. Two or three of the slimmer, strangely lithe Martian females skulked about the shadows, watching the debauchery.

  But in the heart of the room sat their master upon his throne, a pair of chained slave-girls resting at his feet. The Blue Sheik was so named for obvious interests, as well as a blue cloak wrapped about his nude torso. Josie had never seen a Martian quite like him. In one hand he held a chain leading to the collar of a slave; In the other he swished a goblet of frothy amber. He was a beer-gutted pig at the center of his harem, gloating over his world in ugly ecstasy.

  “What is this?” he demanded.

  Jack pulled Josie to a halt, brandishing his weapon and smiling. “My Lord, I have brought a prize for the Blue Sheik’s harem. My men and I caught this one attempting to break into the compound with explosives. She is a saboteur swine, j
a? But she is very beautiful.” The introductions complete, he pushed Josie forward. “Do with her as you will.”

  Three giant, black eyes swept over every inch of Josie’s exposed, bound body, and a shiver ran involuntarily through her. She did not have to act repulsed by the vile overlord, though her fear at the situation was only barely held in check. “Ah,” he said, sitting forward to study his new captive. “Good work, human! This one is indeed a beauty! Though her arrogance demands that some tortures as well as pleasures be devised upon her flesh, eh?”

  Jack stopped Josie in front of the drooling Martian sheik. “Indeed,” he said simply, and with a shove forced Josie to fall forward upon her new master.

  Josie’s hands reached out to catch her fall, the rope at her wrists slipping undone. Her balled fists landed on the Blue Sheik’s chest as she fell into his lap and paused there.

  The Sheik looked quizzically at Jack. “She is not bound.”

  “No,” Josie said quietly. She flicked the small knife secreted in her hand out from where it had been hidden in her palm. The blade slid under the bulbous chin of the fat Sheik, and she held it at the slender neck hidden beneath. “But she is armed.”

  Josie sliced up and across with every ounce of strength she could channel into her small arm. The razor-sharp utensil cut through the bone and sinew of the Martian’s short, slender neck easily, decapitating the Blue Sheik in one strike. His giant head barely mouthed a gasp before it slid off the feeble stalk and rolled across the floor. Jets of green blood squirted into the air and across his poor slave girls, eliciting screams and confused gasps from the throng. Josie rolled aside and threw the blade at one of the Martian Lords. The attack missed; she was never that good with a knife.

  “Jack!” she cried.

  But Captain Paris was already in motion. He’d turned on the startled guard behind him and sliced at two of its eyes with the blade built into the handle of the Martian blaster. The guard squealed in pain and fell back, so Jack took aim and fired a pulse of electric green and blue energy that cut the dying Martian in half. “Here!” Jack unslung the submachine gun from his arm and turned to toss it to Josie before firing again with the death ray. His shot found its mark, killing one of the Martian females that had leapt from hiding to attack.

 

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