by Pro Se Press
“Good, take this. Hold this and shoot when I tell you. Not until.”
“I get it. Why do you Americanos always talk to us like we’re idiots?”
“I talk to everyone the same, lady. Now stay down until I say move.”
The submachine gun fire faded to only a few stray shots, which in turn faded as well. The base was suddenly very, very quiet. The Eagle wondered where the soldiers on the base were at. Even the MPs were noticeable by their absence.
He heard the sound of footsteps from across the dirt road. He waited for them to approach. The Eagle knew he couldn’t have any idea about the other men watching the open field. He needed to be ready to kill quickly. He heard the dirt move on the other side of the Studebaker. The steps were too close together. He peered under the low riding car. He counted three sets of feet. Jeff took a deep breath.
The Eagle shot up to his feet with his own M1911 at the ready. Before any of the traitors could bring their weapons up, he fired.
Two bullets cut straight in to the heart of one Nazi, a dark-haired man in a private’s uniform. The other two men raised their Thompsons even as the Eagle turned his own weapon.
He let off one swift shot before they brought their own weapons to bear on him. His shot went wild as he fell towards the ground, but it still cut in to a Nazi’s shoulder. The false soldier stumbled back as his ally blasted wildly in to the Studebaker.
Rosa caught the Eagle’s eye as he fell down next to her. Jeff shrugged as he slid closer to her. He moved past her and slid his arm underneath the car’s engine. He ran his fingers across the warm metal in search of a very familiar cap. He yanked it open. The familiar smell of motor oil filled his nostrils as the gunfire faded again.
He pulled his arm free of the car just as the Nazi came around the car. The Eagle’s pistol shot up in time to cut down the traitor with three more shots. He turned to pop up and fire at the Nazi whose shoulder he had wounded when he heard the shots. Rosa was standing pale and wide eyed…the gun still smoking in her hand. Jeff pushed her back down below the vehicle’s edge as he spoke.
“Stow that weapon and get inside now,” The girl was still frozen with the terror of killing a man, Jeff barked at Rosa. “Move!”
She shoved the M1911 in to her handbag as she scurried up to her feet, but stayed low as she ran in to the building. The Eagle stood up just high enough to see over the convertible towards the road. He counted four more Nazis on the approach. As soon as they saw him, they fired towards him and the Studebaker.
Jeff hurled himself towards the entrance of the command building. He threw the door shut as he passed, just as the car exploded in to ball of flame. The entire room shook as he rolled across the floor. He only hoped that the destruction would eliminate the Nazis outside.
He opened his eyes and pushed up to his feet. He stopped short at the sound of a revolver hammer pulled back. And another. He rose up and stared in to the face of three MPs and the barrels of their revolvers.
Chapter Six
Line of Fire
“Herr Shannon, you have caused us far too many problems today.”
The MP spoke with only the slightest hint of a German accent. He smiled through broken teeth as he held the revolver against the Eagle’s forehead. His features were nothing out of the ordinary. He could be any common American citizen from New York to Appalachia. Only he happened to work for the Krauts instead of the government to which he swore a loyalty oath.
His two allies held their own pistols on Colonel Lawler, Corporal Strickland, and Rosa. The two soldiers and the wire operator sat in three simple wooden chairs. Strickland was barely conscious. Blood dripped from a nasty knot on his forehead.
It was a deadly situation. Despite the fact that his allies outnumbered the Nazi turncoats, they weren’t the ones with the guns. His own pistol sat on the floor in front of him.
The Eagle looked past his captor’s weapon. He met the turncoat’s eyes. “What is this about? Why go to all this trouble for Manila?”
“We all were German immigrants or children of immigrants. We’ve been treated like second class citizens since the end of the Great War. We all decided it was our turn to have control. We will cripple the American fleet here. We will take the island for Germany. Japan may be the Reich’s ally, but with us in control of the island they, will know their place in the coming war. From here, we can live like kings. We can enjoy the easy life while the war continues elsewhere. Herr Reinhardt has promised us a small fortune when the Reich takes total control of the island.”
“Where is this Reinhardt?” the Eagle asked. “I hear a lot about him, but he doesn’t seem very friendly.”
“It’s a question you will never have to worry about. Now do you have any last words for me? I’m sure after the war is over, we can pass it on to your friends and family.”
“I don’t have any family. Worse men than you took care of that. But I do have something to say to Rosa.”
The traitor laughed. “You work fast, Herr Shannon. Go ahead; tell her what you have to say.”
Jeff looked at Rosa. She met his eyes. He could see the hint of fear in her eyes as she clutched her handbag tightly. Her hand rested against the mouth of the open bag. He smiled.
“I know we haven’t had a lot of time together, Rosa, but right now it’s important that you remember what I told you... because it’s time, right now.”
She slowly nodded. He nodded back.
The bullet cut in to the chest of the traitor in front of her. Two more rounds sent him flying down to the ground in a pool of his own blood. Jeff’s attention didn’t follow the rest of the gun battle as he had his own problems.
His hand shot up and shoved the Nazi’s forearm straight up. The revolver fired wildly just inches from his left ear. All sound disappeared in to a ringing echo, but he didn’t let it slow him. He straightened his hand and drove it straight in to the throat of the traitor.
To the Nazi’s credit, he didn’t let his sudden lack of oxygen slow him down. He brought his own weapon down and fired. The Eagle dropped to the floor just in time for the bullets to whiz over his head.
He ignored the sound of revolvers and automatics firing behind him. He couldn’t distract himself with the other Nazi or Rosa’s safety. Not if he wanted to survive.
The Eagle whipped out his foot and smacked the traitor’s legs out from under him. The traitor fell backwards. Jeff rolled across the floor for his own gun. His fingers touched the grip of the M1911 just as he saw the Nazi’s barrel leveled towards him.
He rolled just in front of the Nazi’s shot. He came up to one knee and fired blind. Three shots exploded the Nazi’s skull matter across the floor.
He looked across the room. Rosa stood with a smoking gun in her hand. It was pointed across the room, but the second Nazi lay dead on the floor. He didn’t know how she did it, but she and the two soldiers were all intact. She stared down at the dead traitors, it was the second time that day she had killed someone.
“It was us or them, Rosa. Don’t beat yourself up.”
She didn’t turn away from the dead traitor. “I’m not. I just never—it was just so easy. Too easy.”
“Hopefully, you will never have to do it again.”
He reached out and pushed her gun towards the floor. Her vision finally turned to him as he asked.
“You all right?”
She nodded.
He didn’t say anything else. He walked past her to the unconscious colonel. He checked Lawler’s pulse. He found it strong, but the colonel still wasn’t moving. The head wound didn’t appear too dangerous though. He would be all right with a few hours rest.
“Colonel Lawler isn’t going to be much help for awhile. These goons took care of that. We still have to track down Reinhardt before the battleship comes in tomorrow. And with his compatriots dead, we’re back on square one.”
Strickland’s laugh drew his attention back to the corporal. Only the cool blond hair of the young soldier was nowhere to be see
n. Instead his face was covered by a dark gray mask with large bug like eyes. His breath rasped through the large re-breather even as gas flooded out of the canister he held in his hand.
The Eagle’s head spun as the gas filled the room. He coughed and gagged at the familiar odor of the knockout gas. Rosa crumpled to the floor in front of him. He tried to raise his gun to fire, but all strength had fled from his hand.
Strickland stepped closer as the Eagle slumped to the floor. “Perhaps, Herr Shannon, you are not as talented as you think. You’ve spent hours looking for Hans Reinhardt when I’ve been here all along, overseeing every step you took.”
The sound of Strickland’s—Reinhardt’s—laughter, filled the room as the final sliver of consciousness slipped away from the Eagle.
Chapter Seven
Mastermind
As Jeff Shannon slowly opened his eyes, his sight was filled with a dark blur. The lights were dim wherever he was. Even as he blinked his eyes to adjust to the light, he could barely see more than four or five feet in front of him. A single ray through a tiny skylight seemed to be the only source of light in the room.
He sat in a hard iron chair. His hands were bound behind him and the chair by a rough, thick length of rope. The knots were tight. The Eagle needed to flex his fingers for several seconds before any sensation returned to them. His feet were bound to the chair legs and to each other.
His shirt and shoes were gone. The cement floor radiated heat against his feet. His entire body was covered in sweat. While the heat and humidity were bad in Manila, here the temperature was at least ten degrees higher.
A light clicked on in front of him. Instantly his vision blurred again. They wanted him off guard. He knew the technique. It didn’t make the uneasiness of his sudden loss of vision any more comfortable.
“Good to see you are awake, Mister Shannon. I have to admit, I’ve been waiting for this moment for a very long time.”
Strickland—or rather, Reinhardt—appeared from the shadows. His Marine uniform was gone. In its place was the full uniform of a German captain. A sly smirk covered his face.
“Where’s Rosa and the colonel?”
“The colonel is dead,” Reinhardt said. “I reported his death myself. I also included the descriptions of the corrupt American agent and local woman responsible. The girl is elsewhere in our little facility. This holding area is located in the bank of a large textile factory. The Marines are too blind to even know it exists. They won’t find you.”
The Eagle’s hand reached for the back of his belt. He found it still in place just as he hoped it would be. He felt the inside of the leather and quickly found the false layer. He slowly peeled it aside and felt the cold razor blade inside. He slipped it in to his fingers, careful not to cut himself as he aimed it at the ropes binding his wrists.
“What is it going to be then, Reinhardt? I’ve been tortured before. You won’t get anything out of me. Better than you have tried.”
“I have doubts about that,” Reinhardt said. “We have all the time in the world and I’m very, very inventive.”
“I’m sure you are. I just doubt you will have time to make it happen. So why don’t you just tell me who is the real mind behind this plan.”
“What are you talking about? Have I broken the legendary Eagle’s mind this easily?”
“Don’t play games with me. I know you couldn’t have planned an attack on the Philippines without help from someone inside. Even with the dozen soldiers you brought in, you don’t have the manpower to control the island. You need someone with organization and structure in the country. I would guess whatever counts as the mob in this sweatbox.”
“Germany doesn’t need any help from anyone, Shannon. The Third Reich will stand tall on its own. No one can—”
“Enough, Reindhardt.” The new voice spoke with a thick local accent, even if he didn’t show himself in the shadow soaked room. “This Eagle is a smarter man than that. It is foolish to treat him as an idiot.”
“Well hello there,” the Eagle said.
The figure stepped forward several steps. His shoes clicked against the cement floor. The Eagle’s eyes widened as he took in the full sight of the mystery man. He stood nearly six and a half feet tall. He was half again as wide, but it wasn’t due to any fat. The tailored suit, pants, and white cotton shirt did little to hide the mass of muscles that covered every inch of the man’s frame. A thick rimmed pair of spectacles covered his eyes and framed his round bald head. A long flowing goatee hung down to the top of his pectoral muscles.
“I am known here as Mister Bautista. I suspect our mutual friend Mister Reinhardt has misjudged you, Mister Shannon.”
“How so?” the Eagle asked.
Mister Bautista walked closer to the Eagle. He bent down inches from Jeff’s face. Bautista studied him with utmost care.
“I don’t think you will be easily broken. Not at all.”
“I suspect you’re right, Mister Bautista. You will have to kill me before you break me.”
Mister Bautista slowly shook his head. “I think you will break. It will take some time, but I think you will break. But it will take hands other than my dear friend Hans to do it.”
Jeff didn’t even see it coming. The strike caught him deep in the gut. It felt like a ton of bricks smashed in to his diaphragm as all the oxygen shot from his body. It took every ounce of concentration to keep from dropping the blade in his hands.
“No,” Bautista said as he rose back to his feet. “No, I think I will take great pride in breaking you personally. You will give up all your secrets, and I will sell them to the highest bidder.”
“What?” Reinhardt’s words pierced through Jeff’s own gasping breaths.
Mister Bautista turned towards him. The Eagle could sense the disdain in Bautista’s eyes.
“What do you mean highest bidder?” Reinhardt asked. “All the information will go to the Reich after we take control of the island.”
“Ah, yes, yes,” Mister Bautista said. “About that…”
Bautista’s hand flashed again. The big man moved with such speed that the Eagle barely could see the big man’s hand go in and out of his pocket. The pair of gunshots shook the room. Reinhardt’s uniform blossomed with two circles of red.
The Nazi infiltrator’s eyes went wide, and as the life faded from his body… he toppled forward.
Jeff stared at the gun in Bautista’s hand. It was Jeff’s very own M1911. It looked miniscule in the Filipino’s massive hand. Bautista lowered the weapon as he turned back towards Jeff.
“That’s so much better,” Bautista said. “I was so tired of that fool’s constant prattling. Honestly, the fool thought he would really take this island in the name of Germany. No one on this island would bow to the Nazis.”
“It seems clear you are no fool, Mister Bautista.”
“That I am most certainly not, Mister Shannon. The Philippines will be taken sooner or later. It’s only a matter of time before the Japanese come. You Americans think you are invincible. You think you can’t be beaten. But the Japanese will take this island. The Americans will fight as will the Filipino army. But they will fail. They can’t stop the Japanese war machine. No, this island will be Japan’s, whether it is the Americans or the Nazis they destroy to take it. But they will need help. And they won’t turn down high level American intelligence information.”
“You plan to let the Japanese take over and sell me to them?”
“They will pay well for your information and they will reward a loyal subject that helps them take the island. And while your precious country and my own people gather their forces, I will cement my place on the island, even as I work to subjugate the Japanese to my whims. I will take the island as my own. The Japanese—the whole world—will know they must respect me.”
“Can’t say you don’t plan large, Mister Bautista.”
“No one can or ever will.”
“There’s only one little problem with your plan.”
/> Mister Bautista laughed. “Don’t put on some kind of brave front, Mister Shannon. Not even the Eagle can foil me now. My plans won’t be stopped.”
“But still, there’s that problem. You see, you aren’t going to get information out of me.”
“And why is that, Mister Shannon?”
The Eagle let the blade drop from his hand. The ropes fell away from his hands with it. He instantly shot his arms forward. He ignored the pain that shot through his arms, the result of them trapped behind him too long. Instead he brought both hands up in sharp karate style strikes. He drove the edge of each hand hard over the big man’s ears. He learned the attack from a Russian wrestler years ago. It was a simple if somewhat dirty move. By slightly cupping the hands and driving them hard over his foe’s ears, the pressure would cause his opponent’s ears to vibrate. The blow could blow out the eardrum entirely if applied with enough force. At the very least, it would vastly throw off their equilibrium.
Mister Bautista staggered back a step, stunned by the ear pop. Shannon wasted no time. He leaned forward despite his bound feet. He grabbed the Filipino’s forearm, just above his gun hand, as he fell forward on to his knees. He wrenched the arm out and away from Bautista’s body. He drove his other elbow down hard in the big man’s forearm. He heard the crack of bone, even as he released his grip.
His hand went to the M1911. He twisted it from Bautista’s slack hand and brought it up to the big man’s head. He pulled the trigger once, twice.
The click of empty chambers filled his ears.
Bautista growled as he swung his good arm hard in to the side of the Eagle’s jaw. The blow knocked Jeff off his knees. His right arm smashed down hard on to the cement floor. The gun clattered away from him as a wave of pain shot through his shoulder.
Mister Bautista loomed high over him. The Eagle whipped his legs out. The chair came up with it and drove hard in to the side of Bautista’s leg. The iron snapped against the big man’s thick calves as it swept the legs right out from under the crime boss. Bautista crashed down to the floor right next to Jeff.