Incursion (A James Shaw Mission Book 1)

by Richard Turner

  Like Moses parting the Red Sea, the crowd moved back.

  Wahlberg placed his hand on Andreas’ shoulder. Slowly, the grieving man turned his head to look up. “Why did you say that Carl killed Gunnar?”

  “I was supposed to go and replace Gunnar on sentry at eleven, but Carl told me that he couldn’t sleep so he offered to take my shift. When Gunnar did not come back at midnight, I went to check on him and found lying there dead in the snow.”

  Wahlberg turned to look at Carl. “Is this true?”

  Carl shook his head. “No. I didn’t offer to take Andreas’ shift. Captain Shaw has me checking the explosives on the German airplane every six hours. I was at the plane when this happened.”

  Wahlberg turned to face Shaw, “Captain, is this true?”

  “Yes it is,” said Shaw. “I don’t want anything to go wrong when the time comes for us to detonate the explosives. Carl has been checking on the wiring every six hours for me. His last check was at midnight.”

  “If he was there, there’ll be fresh tracks leading to and from the plane,” said Wahlberg.

  “I’ll go and see if he was at the plane,” said Gert, stepping out from the crowd.

  “No, I’ll do it,” said Shaw firmly before Wahlberg could say a word. “You’re his brother. People will think you’re biased.”

  Shaw saw a flash of anger in Gert’s eyes for second before quickly fading.

  “Very well, I agree. Captain Shaw will check if Carl is telling the truth,” announced Wahlberg. “Until then, I want everyone to calm down.”

  Moving over beside Wahlberg, Shaw quietly said, “Send a couple of men whom you trust implicitly to the sentry post and have them retrieve the body.”

  Wahlberg nodded and gave the order while Shaw walked back to his shelter. Gently tapping Bruce’s feet with his boot, he woke his sleeping friend up.

  Bruce cursed, rolled over and then instantly came awake when he saw the serious look on Shaw’s face.

  “What’s going on, Captain?” said Bruce as he crawled out from under the shelter into the falling snow.

  “Come on, we need to follow some tracks before we lose them in the snow,” said Shaw as he dug out his flashlight and turned it on.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because if we don’t,” said Shaw, pointing over to the crowd milling around by the fire, “Carl is probably going to be lynched up by some people who aren’t thinking straight.”

  Still not fully comprehending what was happening, Bruce picked up his weapon and followed close behind Shaw as they followed the trail through the darkened woods back towards the craft.

  A few minutes later, they arrived at the crash site. It was as before, the craft sat there, the falling snow sliding of its smooth exterior. Carl’s tracks were everywhere. He had moved all around the craft checking on the charges. Shaw shone his flashlight all around the interior of the craft and saw that all was in order. The demolitions sat where they had been placed, waiting to be detonated.

  Stepping back, Shaw said to Bruce, “Look about. See if you can find any tracks leading away from the plane into the woods.”

  It didn’t take long for both men to realize that there was only one set of tracks, and it led straight back to the camp.

  Bruce said, “Mind telling me what’s going on, Captain?”

  Shaw quickly filled in Bruce on what had transpired back at the camp.

  “I don’t believe a word of it,” said Bruce, shaking his head. “Something odd is going on. I can feel it in my bones.”

  “I don’t believe that Carl killed anyone either,” said Shaw. “The thing that bothers me the most is the fact that the dead sentry was cut open just like the Germans back in the camp were.”

  “God, no!”

  “So unless Anna, Carl, and Gert told the others about the four dead Germans we found, I think we may have a bigger problem on our hands, then just one murder,” said Shaw. “Come on let’s get back to the camp and tell them what we found.”

  A few minutes later, Shaw and Bruce walked back into camp. Thankfully, the storm had abated. Shaw could see that the camp had divided into two groups. Anna, Carl, and Wahlberg stood to one side while the others stood there quietly looking at them. Shaw wasn’t surprised to see that Gert stood with the others and not his brother. The more Shaw was around the man, the more he distrusted him. Walking past the dead sentry’s body lying in the snow, covered by an old woolen blanket, Shaw could feel the tension in the air.

  When Shaw and Bruce return, all eyes turned towards them. Everyone seemed to be waiting to hear from Shaw before making up their minds on what to do next.

  Shaw said, “There are tracks to and from the crash site. Carl is telling the truth. He was there.”

  Andreas got back up on his feet and looked even angrier than before. “It doesn’t take an hour to walk down there and check the demolitions,” said Andreas, looking over at Carl. “He could have easily slipped away and killed Gunnar, and no one would have known.”

  Several people loudly agreed with him.

  “I agree,” said Shaw, trying to calm the frayed nerves of the people around him. “It doesn’t take an hour to do what I asked him to do. However, we looked all around and there are no tracks leading away from the plane into the woods. Carl did as he says. He went to and from the plane and that is all he did.”

  “But I saw him standing around the fire just before midnight,” said a heavyset man with a long thick beard.

  “As did I,” said another man.

  “It wasn’t me,” said Carl, his voice betraying the fear filling his heart.

  Shaw raised his hands to quieten the crowd. “I’m sorry but that would be impossible. He cannot be in two places at the same time.”

  “You’re lying to protect him,” said the man with the thick beard.

  Shaw shook his head. It was obvious that they had already made up their minds. No matter what he said, they wanted blood.

  Anna said, “People, please listen to yourselves. This is utter madness. Captain Shaw has no reason to lie. He’s here to do a job, and we all volunteered to help him. He doesn’t know Carl or any of you for that matter. Think about it, why would he try to cover for a suspected murderer? Something tragic has happened, and Gunnar is dead. I don’t know what happened out there, but I am also certain that Carl didn’t do it.”

  A silence fell over the camp.

  Anna seemed to have won them all over, for the moment. Before anyone else could speak, Wahlberg took charge. “We need to double the guard from now on. No one is to go anywhere alone.”

  Heads nodded in the crowd.

  Wahlberg continued. “There could be a German patrol out there. They, not Carl, are most likely are responsible for Gunnar’s death. I want everyone to be extra careful from now on. Keep your weapons close to you at all time. I don’t want any more people dying.”

  With that, the people in the camp slowly made their way back to their shelters.

  Shaw walked over beside Carl and told him to sleep in his shelter tonight. The young man was about to object, when Anna told him it would be for the better. With his head hung low, Carl walked over and then sat down beside the shelter; the look on his face was one of pure misery. Bruce ambled over and sat down beside Carl with two cups of coffee, hoping to lift the youth’s flagging spirits.

  Shaw turned to face Anna and Wahlberg. Keeping his voice low, he said, “This behavior is probably what set off the Germans before they went mad killing one another. We need to be careful, I don’t mind saying that I don’t trust Gert one single bit.”

  Anna said, “I’ve known Gert for years. He’s a moody individual, but I have never seen him take sides with people against his brother. It was quite disturbing to watch. It’s as if he’s not himself anymore.”

  “Ok, it’s obvious to me that we can’t remain up here much longer,” said Wahlberg. “If we stay up here one more day, we’ll be at each other’s throats. First thing in the morning, we’ll blow up the plane a
nd then disperse back to our homes. Hopefully, that will calm things down.”

  Shaw nodded his head.

  “I’m going to check on the sentries hourly until the sun comes up,” said Wahlberg. “I suggest that you both get some rest, it looks like it could be a long couple of days in front of us.”

  Anna said, “There’s no way in hell that I’m going to close my eyes tonight.”

  “Me neither,” said Shaw.

  “Suit yourselves,” said Wahlberg as he turned and walked away.

  Anna turned and looked up at Shaw. “What do you think really happened out there?”

  “I don’t know,” he replied. “I doubt that a German patrol is lurking around in the shadows. He just said that to deflect suspicion away from Carl. Whoever killed Gunnar is still here. His killer is one of us.”

  Anna stood there thinking about what Shaw had just said. What had happened to the Germans was now happening to them. If they weren’t careful, more people would die. Looking up into the pitch-black sky, Anna began to pray for dawn.

  In the valley, a long dark shape snaked its way ever closer. With Corporal Zach in the lead, the column silently closed in. Avoiding the path the resistance fighters had used to make their way up the hill to their camp, Zach was taking his comrades on a more circuitous route. During his reconnaissance, he had easily spotted the camp’s sentries and planned to avoid going anywhere near them. Using an old animal path, he intended to arrive behind the partisan camp just before dawn.

  Major Vogel walked just behind Zach. His mind and body were calm. He had seen plenty of death over the past few years to know that worrying about your own mortality was pointless. He always believed that a person’s destiny was pre-ordained. He found it comforting to know that his death was out of his hands. His only thought was on finding out what had happened back in the weather station. He wanted the journal, and he wanted prisoners to interrogate. Someone had to know something that could shed some light on the massacre.

  Taking a deep breath, Vogel looked up at the hill looming above them. In a few hours, he would have his answers, of that he was certain.

  17

  Partisan camp

  Shaw’s back was beginning to ache. After standing too long in one spot, he found the muscles in his back tended to tighten up. Bending down to touch his toes, he stretched out his back.

  In the dark, someone approached.

  Shaw stood up straight and then with his Thompson in his hands he turned about.

  It was Carl. He looked thoroughly dejected and tired. Shaw doubted that he had slept very much during the long, cold night.

  “How are you doing?” Shaw asked Carl.

  “Fine, I suppose, sir,” replied Carl. “I just wanted to thank you for saying what you did last night.”

  “I only said was the truth. I know that you didn’t kill that man.”

  Carl self-consciously nodded his head.

  Shaw looked down at his watch and said, “It’s coming up on six in the morning. Why don’t you go and check the charges one last time for me.”

  “Right away,” replied Carl, sounding a little more like himself.

  Shaw watched him grab his rifle, sling it over his shoulder, and then head out into the forest. It would be light in just over an hour. Shaw couldn’t wait to destroy the German plane, or whatever it was, and get going. The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air. Grabbing a tin cup, Shaw walked over and poured himself some. Turning to look at the darkened woods, the ominous feeling that he was being watched suddenly returned. Shaking his head, Shaw reminded himself that he had been surviving on far too little sleep and way too much coffee for the past few days. A nice long sleep and some decent food would go a long way to settling his nerves. With his cup in hand, Shaw walked over to wake up Bruce. He wanted the only man he knew he could trust awake before the rest of the camp began to stir. Something told Shaw that the peace and silence of the night was about to burst wide open.

  Zach froze in his tracks, raised an arm telling everyone behind him to stop, and then carefully got down on one knee.

  Behind him, the column of soldiers took a step off the trail and likewise got down on one knee, their eyes surveying the darkened woods around them for any sign of danger.

  Vogel carefully moved up behind Zach and quietly said, “What is it? Why are we stopping?”

  Zach turned his head slightly and said, “Sir, I’ve found some tracks in the snow that I’ve never seen before.” To emphasize his point, Zach placed his hand down inside the track and opened his hand. Even with his fingers fully spread out, the track dwarfed his hand.

  “What made that track?”

  Zach shook his head. “Sir, I have no idea. It looks a like a large cat’s paw print, but it is enormous. I have tracked lynx before, but this is something else. See how deep the tracks go into the snow? It must weigh well over a thousand pounds.”

  “Which way was it going?”

  “It looks to be heading away from the camp, deeper into the woods.”

  “Very well then, let’s get a move on.”

  With that, Zach stood up, waved at the men behind him to do the same, and then quietly continued down the trail.

  Vogel fell back in line and followed closed behind Zach. Reaching down with his right hand, he drew his pistol from its holster and gripped it tight.

  Less than five minutes later, Zach stopped, turned about and told Vogel that they were in position. As rehearsed, the column split into two teams. Lieutenant Beckers commanded one group, while Sergeant Muller led the other. Quietly spreading out, the soldiers got down in the snow, double-checked their weapons and then patiently waited for the signal to advance. Some silently prayed while others stared into the dark hoping this wasn’t going to be their last hour on earth.

  A darkened figure approached and then got down in the snow beside Vogel. “When do you plan to attack?” asked Wagner, still agitated that he hadn’t been given a command for the raid.

  “In five minutes,” replied Vogel calmly. He had not wanted to bring the SS officer with him, but he would rather have him here where he could keep an eye on him. Had he left him back in the camp he undoubtedly would have become an unbearable nuisance for the men left behind.

  Up ahead in the dark, Zach stealthily crept forward, his rifle tucked in tight to his shoulder. Wherever he looked, his rifle barrel moved as well. He had moved ahead of the assault force to ensure that the path to the camp was still clear. The last thing they needed was to bump into something or someone on their way to the partisan hideout. He had barely gone a hundred yards when he stopped in his tracks. Looking through the sniper scope mounted on his rifle, he saw a man in civilian clothing with a rifle slung over his shoulder walking towards a large metallic object lying in the snow. Studying the man, he could see that he was checking and re-checking something inside the metallic object. He was about to head back and report what he had seen to Major Vogel when another man stepped out of the woods and walked straight towards the man with his head down inside the object.

  Everything was as it should, thought Carl. Standing up, he turned about and nearly let out a surprised cry when he saw his brother Gert standing there, barley five feet away from him. Carl was surprised that he hadn’t heard his brother coming down the trail.

  Gert’s face was cold and expressionless.

  “What are you doing here?” Carl asked his brother.

  “Wahlberg said that no one should go anywhere on their own. I just wanted to make sure that you were all right,” replied Gert.

  Goosebumps crawled down Carl’s arms. His brother wasn’t himself; the more time slipped by the less he was the man that Carl knew and loved.

  “Are the charges still ready to detonate?” asked Gert.

  “Yes they are,” said Carl, stepping back slightly from his brother. “We had better head back to the camp and report to the captain.”

  In a flash, like an animal pouncing on its prey, Gert closed the distance between them
. Wrapping his right hand around Carl’s neck, he effortlessly picked him up off the ground and then held him up in the air while his hand crushed his windpipe.

  Struggling to break free, Carl brought both his hands up and desperately pulled at Gert’s hand. It was no use. The hold on his neck was too strong. In the split-second before he died. Carl saw Gert as he really was. Cold, reptilian eyes looked up at Carl as his life left him.

  Gert heard Carl’s neck crack; a moment later his body went limp. Tossing the lifeless body into the woods, Gert turned about and reached inside the craft. Pulling out the detonator, he studied it for a moment and calmly set the timer for five minutes. Placing the detonator back inside the craft, Gert reached over to the control and then depressed three buttons simultaneously. Instantly, a small red light began to blink on and off on the panel. Looking about to ensure that Carl’s murder had gone unobserved, Gert slowly walked back towards the camp as if nothing had happened.

  Zach lowered his rifle and then rubbed his eyes. He must be getting tired, he thought to himself. The killer, for a brief moment, had looked like he wasn’t a man at all. Zach could have sworn that he had seen something dark, wearing a suit of dark gray armor that stood well over six feet tall. It was shaped like a man but did not look like one. Shaking his head, Zach brought up his scope to his eye and watched the man head back the way he came. He knew he was in need of some sleep when the man stopped for a moment and looked back towards the metallic object. Zach could have sworn that it was the dead man standing there, not his killer. Taking a deep breath to clear his weary mind, Zach lowered his rifle and then carefully re-traced his path back to Major Vogel.

  A minute later, he stopped in front of Major Vogel and reported what he had seen.

  What the hell is going on around here? If they were killing one another, he could not afford to wait another second longer, thought Vogel. Standing up, he raised his hand. From out of the snow, like wraiths rising from an icy grave, Vogel’s men in their white camouflaged smocks stood up. Pointing forward towards the camp, the line of men began to advance.