Incursion (A James Shaw Mission Book 1)

by Richard Turner

  After Koch’s death, the imposter had returned to the warmth of the barracks with the rest of the soldiers.

  Several hours passed.

  The imposter soon began to grow restless. He saw that most of the soldiers were napping. If they weren’t on duty, the imposter observed that the soldiers would almost always choose to go to sleep. He was tired and needed rest too, but he couldn’t risk letting his guard down. At first, he paced the floor until one of the soldiers grew irritated, told him to quit it and take a seat. Reluctantly, he sat down on his cot and then looked around the room, trying to select the next possible weak-minded candidate to turn against the others, when his stomach growled loud enough to be heard by a man sitting near him.

  “Jesus Freytag that sounds awful,” said a soldier, with thick glasses. “Do you want some of my rations?”

  The imposter gave a disgusted look on his face and then shook his head.

  “Are you sure? Your gut sounds awfully hungry,” said the soldier, holding out his ration box.

  The imposter shook his head again and then stood up. He was hungry, more than that, he was starving. He had tried eating the food the first time he was in the camp. It had upset his stomach so badly that he decided that he could only eat fresh food from then on. The cold and the constant mental strain were draining him. All he could think about was eating. If he didn’t eat soon, he doubted that he could keep up his façade for very much longer.

  A soldier called out, “Hey Freytag, the duty list has been posted. We’re guarding the prisoners after supper tonight.”

  “Ok, sounds good,” said the imposter. What the other man did not know was that Freytag had spoken with Corporal Zach when he had handed over his rifle and had volunteered for that specific shift. Who he was on with was inconsequential. The man was going to die anyway.

  The sound of several jeeps pulling into the camp caught the imposter’s attention. Standing up, he walked to the nearest window and peered outside. Through the snow, he could see that the other men, the ones in black, were back. He saw that they had an older looking man with them. Even from where he was, the imposter could see that the man looked scared. His face was covered in bruises. Seeing some of the soldiers grab the man roughly and drag him along with them, the imposter knew something bad was about to happen. He could sense the evil coming from these other soldiers. Instantly, his stomach rumbled. He was so hungry that his stomach hurt. Another man’s trouble was not his concern; he saw opportunity.

  Sturmbannfuhrer Wagner strode towards the makeshift prison cell with a smug smile of satisfaction on his face. He had found a man he deemed to be a collaborator, and now he intended to find more. Pointing at the two guards standing outside of the wooden hut, he yelled, “Move out of the way, or I will have you arrested for interfering in SS business.”

  Both soldiers immediately moved aside. One of the men saw the battered man the SS soldiers were dragging through the snow, turned on his heels and ran off to find Sergeant Muller before things got worse.

  “Open the door and force the prisoners out into the snow,” said Wagner to an SS Corporal, who nodded his head and then pulled the door open wide. Right away, he began to holler at Shaw, Bruce and Anna to move outside.

  Shaw was still pulling on his parka when he was grabbed and pulled out into the blowing snow. A burst of anger filled his heart. If he could have, he would have beaten the SS soldier to a pulp. However, with a dozen men standing around with their weapons aimed at him, he decided to stow his feelings for another time.

  “Hands off, mate,” said Bruce to an SS soldier who tried pulling him from the doorway. With as much dignity as he could muster, Bruce stepped out into the cold and looked over at Major Wagner. The man was more than a cinematic caricature of a Nazi officer. Bruce could sense the malevolence and hatred that seethed within the man. If he hadn’t been an officer in the SS, Bruce didn’t doubt that the man could have easily become a career criminal.

  “Oh God, no,” said Anna, bringing her hand to her mouth. Tears instantly filled her eyes as she watched the doctor who had been there the day before being dragged by his jacket collar until he was standing in front of her.

  Wagner saw the horrified look in Anna’s eyes and smiled. He had her.

  Shaw moved over beside Anna, and said, “What is going on here? Does Major Vogel know what you are doing?”

  “I don’t need Major Vogel’s permission to do my job,” snarled Wagner. “Now shut your mouth or I will have one of my men shut it for you.”

  Bruce couldn’t understand a word, but by Wagner’s tone, he knew they were in trouble.

  A second later, the doctor was forced down onto his knees in the snow. Wagner walked over, drew his pistol and aimed it right at the hapless man’s head. Turning his head, he looked Anna straight in the eye, and said, “Do you speak German?”

  “Yes,” replied Anna.

  “This man is a member of the resistance and will be dealt with according to the rules of war,” said Wagner.

  “No, please no Major. He’s not a member of the resistance,” said Anna. “I’d never seen him until yesterday when he treated our wounded.”

  “Those men were found in his care. I had them placed against a wall and shot for being saboteurs and enemies of the Reich,” said Wagner.

  The devastating news hit Anna hard. Dropping to her knees, she buried her head in her hands and then let out a mournful cry.

  “If he is not in the resistance, then why was he helping those men to escape?” said Wagner.

  Shaw’s gut was tied in knots. He could see where it was all heading. Stepping forward slightly, he said, “For God’s sake speak with Major Vogel. He authorized the movement of the two wounded men to the village, so they could be better cared for by the doctor.”

  “So if he is not in the resistance, then perhaps the fraulein can tell me who is?”

  “You’ve killed everyone I know,” said Anna, sobbing. “Everyone.”

  “I don’t believe you fraulein. Names, I want names, give them to me. If you don’t, I will kill this man. You have ten seconds.”

  Anna looked up. Her eyes were red, her face covered in tears. “Please don’t kill him.”

  Wagner began to count, “Ten-nine-eight-seven-six-five-,”

  “Please I’m begging you. Please don’t do this.”

  “Four-three-two-”

  “Wait,” yelled a voice. “Stop what you are doing.”

  Turning his head, Shaw saw Vogel and Muller running towards them.

  Wagner saw Vogel rushing towards him. With a smile upon his face, he said, “Two-one.” With that, he pulled the trigger.

  The loud snap of the pistol firing startled Shaw even though he knew it was coming.

  Falling forward into the snow, blood instantly began to pool underneath of the dead doctor’s shattered skull.

  “No!” screamed Anna as she watched the doctor die. Before anyone could react, Anna was up on her feet and running over to the doctor’s body. Throwing herself down beside him, Anna reached over and placed her shaking arms around the doctor’s body. Lying there, she cried and shook her head from side to side. She couldn’t understand why the SS officer had murdered an innocent man. She had told them the truth. Everyone she knew in her cell was now dead. It had been nothing more than cold-blooded murder.

  Vogel pushed his way past the cordon of SS troopers and stood there looking down at the doctor’s corpse. A look of anger flashed in his eye. He had warned Wagner not to do this, but like a petty tyrant, he had felt the need to flex his idiotic muscles, thought Vogel.

  “You stupid murdering son of a bitch,” snapped Vogel.

  “Watch your tongue, Major,” warned Wagner. “Need I remind you that I am a fellow officer, and you will talk to me in a respectful manner, especially in front of my men.”

  “You are not a true German officer. What do you know of honor and duty? You and your men are nothing more than thugs in black who like to pretend that you are something more than
you really are.”

  “Major Vogel when you get back to Oslo you will find my report on your actions over the past couple of days will be less than flattering. You are a fool. I have a good mind to relive you of your command right now.”

  The sound of a submachine gun being made ready caught everyone’s attention. A moment later, Sergeant Muller walked over beside Vogel with his weapon trained on Wagner. “Sir, I don’t think that would be a good idea,” said Muller firmly.

  Several SS soldiers cocked their weapons.

  Bloody hell, this isn’t going to end well, thought Shaw. The tension between the two groups of armed men was palpable.

  “Lower your weapon Sergeant or I will have you arrested,” said Wagner

  “No, sir,” replied Muller, his eyes fixed on Wagner. One false move and he would cut the SS officer down before any of his men had a chance to stop him.

  Wagner gritted his teeth. He was tired of these foolish heroics. He would see them all shot for disobedience when he got back to Oslo. He knew there was nothing more he could do, but he had to do something to save face with his men. Looking down at Anna, he saw his way out.

  “Very well, Major Vogel. I have grown weary of you and your men. My men and I will use the camp’s empty weather station building as a place to rest for the night. At dawn, I intend to head back to Haugesund and from there to Oslo.”

  “As do I,” said Vogel, barely hiding his hatred for Wagner.

  Reaching down, Wagner grabbed Anna by her collar and then hauled her up on her feet. Crying, Anna tried to break the man’s hold on her, but could not. A second later, she was thrown over to a couple of SS soldiers, who quickly grabbed hold of her.

  Shaw made a move to help, but was instantly struck in the side by one of Wagner’s men. A hot, blinding pain shot through Shaw’s body. Before he could take another step, he was hit from behind. White light flashed in his mind. He was unconscious before his body hit the ground.

  A loaded weapon shoved in Bruce’s face made him freeze in place.

  “You can keep the two allied prisoners,” said Wagner to Vogel. “They no longer interest me. The girl, however, is a partisan and as such falls outside of your jurisdiction. She is mine to interrogate. I intend to bring her with me to Oslo where the professional interrogators are based. She will tell us all she knows and then be shot.”

  Vogel stood there with his right fist clenched tight. When Wagner spoke of interrogation, he really meant torture. The man wasn’t a soldier; he was a monster.

  As soon as the SS with Anna in tow had left to make themselves comfortable inside the empty weather station office, Vogel looked over at Muller and saw the same look of disgust in the man’s eyes.

  Bruce stepped forward, and said, “Sir, I hope you can understand me because I canna speak a word of German. Can I take Captain Shaw back inside? I’d like to take a look at the bump on his head.”

  “Yes you can,” replied Vogel in English.

  Bruce nodded his appreciation, bent down and then dragged Shaw back inside out of the blowing snow.

  Taking a deep breath to calm his tense nerves, Vogel wearily shook his head. He would be happy to see the back of Wagner. The sooner he and his men left, the happier Vogel would be.

  Muller said, “Sir, would you like the doctor to be placed with the others?”

  “Yes that would be fine,” replied Vogel as he turned his back and slowly walked back to his office.

  Seeing Muller waving to them, two men ran from the barracks, picked up the doctor’s body and then carried it to the mess hall. Opening the door, they looked for a spot to lay the body down. Moving to the far wall, they placed the body down and then stood there looking down at the remains. They had both grown numb to the horror all around them.

  “Why don’t you head back to the quarters? I’ll check his pockets and if I find any money, I’ll share it with you,” said the imposter.

  “Suit yourself Freytag. He’s a poor country doctor. I doubt he has anything of value on him,” said the other soldier as he turned and walked away.

  The instant he heard the door close the imposter pulled a knife from his belt, rolled the corpse on its side and then plunged his knife deep into the man’s still warm flesh. Cutting a long incision, the imposter watched as the heat from the dead man’s body rose into the air inside the near-freezing temperatures of the mess hall. Thrusting his hand inside, he quickly found the man’s liver and pulled it out. Jamming it into his mouth, the imposter ate as quickly as he could. He needed the sustenance, but he also didn’t want to get caught, not now. Looking at his wristband, a yellow light had come on.

  He was only hours away from rescue.

  Things were still working in his favor.

  A smile crept across his blood-soaked face when he thought of Shaw. He would take his time and then feast as much as he could on him before finally heading to his extraction point.

  29

  Weather Station

  A horrible throbbing pain on the side of Shaw’s skull told him that he was still alive. Slowly opening his eyes, the world was a hazy mix of shapes and dull colors. Blinking his eyes a couple of times, he realized that he was lying flat on his back, looking straight up at the wooden roof of their building.

  “Don’t move too much,” said Bruce as he wrung out a damp cloth made from a piece of a blanket and placed it on Shaw’s head. “You received a nasty bump on your head, courtesy of one of those SS lads.”

  Shaw took a deep breath and tried to clear his clouded mind. He remembered being ordered outside and watching impotently as the doctor was murdered by Wagner, but after that everything was just a blur.

  “Just in case you’re wondering, you’ve been out for the past two hours,” said Bruce.

  Turning his head, Shaw saw that it was already dark outside. The snow was falling so thick outside the window that it was hard to see more than a couple of yards. Carefully sitting up, Shaw looked around the room and said, “Where’s Anna?”

  “The SS have her,” replied Bruce, his voice heavy and sad. “After they knocked you out, they took her. I couldn’t follow what was being said, but the other major looked right pissed with the SS major.”

  Shaw’s mind began to race. He couldn’t leave her in the clutches of the SS. “Where did they take her?”

  “Next door. They’re using the old weather station office as a place to rest up during the storm.”

  Even though she was still with the SS, Shaw was relieved to hear that they hadn’t left with her. If she was still here, then there was still a chance, no matter how slim, that they could help her.

  Bruce bent down and handed Shaw a tin he had warmed up on the stove. The meat inside looked a shade of pinkish-gray. It smelt awful, but Shaw was hungry and as his mother always told him when he refused to eat his vegetables, beggars can’t be choosers.

  “I’m not sure what it is, but it tastes better than it looks,” explained Bruce, as he dug his fork into the warmed-up ration can.

  Taking a bite, Shaw was surprised to find that it tasted not too bad. Sitting back, he started to adjust his escape plan in his mind. The SS taking Anna had been unexpected and had seriously complicated everything. As a soldier, he knew it was his duty to try and escape. He didn’t doubt that he and Bruce could pull it off, but he wasn’t going to leave Anna behind. The thought of her in the hands of the SS gnawed at his insides. The image of Wagner arrogantly standing there with his pistol aimed at an innocent man’s head made Shaw grow angrier by the second. Right then and there, Shaw resolved that if he had the chance, he was going to kill Wagner with no more remorse than stepping on a bug.

  Sergeant Muller stood with his hand resting on his submachine gun, his eyes fixed on the work party as they transferred the bodies from the mess hall into the back of one of their empty trucks. He had long grown numb to the bitterly cold wind whipping the falling snow about inside the camp. Muller had plenty of work for the soldiers to do. He didn’t intend to give them a chance to sit idle,
not after what had happened earlier in the day. Looking down at his watch, he saw it was nearly time for a shift change. Some of the men loading the truck would have to replace the sentries standing out in the cold. He was about to order Corporal Zach to take over supervising the loading of the trucks, when a soldier walked out of the mess hall and made his way over to Muller.

  “What is it?” said Muller.

  The soldier pointed back towards the mess hall and said, “Sergeant I think you need to come see this.”

  Muller could see in the man’s eyes that he was deeply troubled by something. Nodding his head, he followed the soldier. Stepping inside the building, Muller was happy to be out of the wind, if only for a couple of minutes. The soldier led Muller to the far side of the building. He could see a soldier standing there looking down at one of the corpses. As he got closer, Muller could see that it was the murdered doctor’s body. A pool of frozen blood covered the floor beneath the corpse.

  “What’s the matter?” Muller said to the soldier standing over the corpse.

  “Sergeant, I was told that the Norwegian doctor had been shot in the head,” said the soldier.

  “Yes, that’s what happened.”

  “Then why has his body been cut open?” said the soldier, pointing down at the large gash in the dead man’s side.

  Instantly, Muller’s blood turned to ice. It had happened again. Bending down, he quickly examined the wound. Muller shook his head. Whoever had killed Zabel was still somewhere inside the camp. Keeping his emotions in check, Muller stood and told the soldiers not to mention this to anyone and to get back to work. Gripping his weapon in his hand, he looked around the room. What had he missed? Where could the killer be hiding? Walking outside, he found Zach and told him what happened. Ordering him to carry on supervising the loading of the trucks, Muller went to warn Vogel before anything else went wrong.