Blood Red City

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Blood Red City Page 33

by Justin Richards


  The two men came down at the edge of the area, close to the woods. The third parachute landed nearby – a wooden crate of equipment attached to it. With the help of Guy, Davenport and Mihali, Brinkman and Green detached themselves from their ’chutes, and bundled them up and out of sight.

  Mihali helped Green open the equipment crate and they split the contents between them.

  ‘We need to get moving, sir,’ Guy told Brinkman. ‘We start at first light.’

  Brinkman nodded. ‘You’d better tell me all about it on the way.’

  * * *

  The easiest and quickest way back into the facility was through the fence. The first light of dawn was breaking across the sea in front of them as they reached the edge of the woods. The hole they had cut back in July was still unrepaired, the fence folded back into place so that it didn’t show.

  ‘They obviously don’t inspect the fence very often or very well,’ Brinkman said as they reached it.

  ‘I’ll tell Hoffman,’ Leo told him. ‘He can make an official complaint. I expect there’s a form he can fill in.’

  A complication was that the area below them, around the rock shelf, was now patrolled by Grebben’s SS men.

  ‘They’ll be gone soon when we set off the alarms,’ Guy said. ‘Hoffman’s ordered them to evacuate with everyone else.’

  ‘Just so long as they do,’ Green said. ‘If not, then it could get interesting.’

  The metal pipeline running round the edge of the rock shelf and then off to the jetty was obvious.

  ‘Leo and I took a look yesterday,’ Guy told the others, ‘as best we could, without it being obvious what we were doing. Anyway, there seems to be a valve about halfway along that section there. Probably for venting air or drawing off excess fuel if they need to clear the pipe.’

  ‘Or if that doesn’t work, you may have to just make a hole in it,’ Leo added. ‘Without sparks flying, of course.’

  ‘I still think we should just blow the thing up,’ Mihali told them.

  ‘Not an option, I’m afraid,’ Brinkman said. ‘You can never guarantee success, of course,’ he went on, ‘but this seems to be as good a plan as we could put together under the circumstances. Good luck to everyone, and hopefully we’ll meet back at the drop zone in a few hours.’

  Mihali and Green folded back the wire and Guy and Leo squeezed through the gap in the fence. Brinkman passed Guy a small backpack, which he slung over his shoulder.

  The SS patrol had passed a few minutes ago and was out of sight, so they should be safe for a while. Even so, they hurried down the slope, putting as much distance between themselves and where they had come through the perimeter as possible. It was fully light now, but if Grebben’s men saw them, they would assume Guy and Davenport had come from the fuel facility.

  Hoffman was waiting behind one of the huts, close to the largest of the two main fuel tanks. Together they made their way along to where a network of pipes joined together in a complicated junction of valves and flow controls before entering the tank.

  ‘Your people ready?’ Hoffman asked.

  ‘They’re ready,’ Leo told him. ‘As soon as Grebben’s men are out of the way they’ll get to work on the pipe.’

  ‘I need to get down there before they open the valve,’ Hoffman said.

  ‘Are you all set?’ Guy asked.

  Hoffman pulled back the cuff of his jacket to show the inert bracelet Davenport had given him clamped to his left wrist. From his pocket he produced the axe-head. ‘There’s just one other thing I need.’

  Guy slipped the small backpack off his shoulder and handed it to Hoffman, who opened it to check the contents. He placed the axe-head inside, and closed it up again.

  ‘Thank you,’ Hoffman said grimly. ‘Now I’m all set.’

  CHAPTER 43

  The alarm was like the wail of an air-raid siren. It cut through the early morning air, easily audible at the edge of the wood where Brinkman was waiting with Green and Mihali.

  ‘Right on time,’ Green said, checking his watch.

  Some of Mihali’s men were in position further along the perimeter, out of sight but ready to give covering fire if it was needed.

  ‘So far, so good,’ Mihali said, watching the fuel depot through binoculars. ‘There are people leaving, in rather a hurry. I guess they think it’s a real emergency.’

  ‘The SS men are heading back to the depot too,’ Brinkman said. ‘We’ll give it a couple of minutes, just to be sure there are no malingerers.’

  All the activity was concentrated on the far side of the facility. People hurried to designated safe areas, and trucks ferried staff further away from the huge fuel tanks. Mihali led Green and Brinkman back down to the fence, pulling it open to let them through.

  ‘I’ll stay here so I have a clear view of the whole area. If I see any activity, I’ll fire a warning shot. If nothing else, that should draw the enemy away from you.’

  ‘Remember Hoffman, the SS major, will be coming this way in a few minutes,’ Brinkman said. ‘Don’t shoot him by accident, he’s with us.’

  ‘I’d still like to know how you pulled that off,’ Mihali said. ‘Good luck to you both.’

  ‘And to you, mate,’ Green said. He took the canvas bag that Mihali gave him, then helped him fold the fence wire back into place.

  They walked briskly down the slope towards the pipeline. If they ran, they knew they were more likely to attract attention. Rapid movement could draw the eye, and it would look more suspicious. The valve was where Davenport had told them it was. They knelt down beside it, Green opening the bag of tools they had brought.

  The pipe was larger than Green had expected – almost a foot in diameter.

  ‘There’ll be a lot of fuel flowing through this,’ he said.

  ‘Just so long as Pentecross and Davenport open the valves at the other end, and keep them open.’

  Brinkman handed Green an adjustable spanner and the sergeant set to work on the valve mechanism. It was set above a threaded socket where another pipe could be attached then secured. The socket itself was covered with a metal cap, which Brinkman unscrewed. The valve hadn’t been used for a while, if ever, and the locking nut was stiff.

  ‘It might even have been painted over,’ Green complained as he strained at the spanner.

  ‘Here, let me,’ a voice said from behind them.

  Both men turned in surprise. Brinkman already had his hand on his pistol. But the uniformed figure watching them seemed unconcerned.

  ‘You must be Hoffman,’ Brinkman realised.

  ‘Some of the time.’ Hoffman stepped past them and took over from Green. He gripped the spanner tightly in both hands. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the spanner turned suddenly. Dark, viscous liquid dripped out from the socket below the valve.

  ‘There you go.’ Hoffman straightened up.

  ‘You’re stronger than you look,’ Green said.

  ‘Sadly, that is true. Give me a few minutes, then open it fully. Your colleagues are opening the valves at the tank.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Brinkman said. ‘We’ll see you later,’ he added, speaking in German.

  Hoffman smiled. ‘We both know that is extremely unlikely. But anything is possible.’ He continued down the slope towards the rocky shelf.

  The evacuation drill was scheduled to last for an hour. Guy hoped that would be long enough. But the chances were that no one would think to check the valves at the fuel tanks for a while after they were allowed back inside the facility.

  ‘That should be long enough for Brinkman to get the upstream valve open,’ Leo said. ‘You want to do the honours?’

  Guy turned the wheel that controlled the flow through the pipe. ‘I hope this is the right one.’

  ‘Trust me, it’s the right one.’ Leo had traced the pipe back through the various connections and junctions. ‘But there’s a gauge here on the side. If we’ve got the wrong pipe, it won’t be open at the other end and the fuel just won’t flow. It’s a
safety measure; both valves have to be open at the same time, in case one fails.’

  The wheel reached the end of its run and stopped.

  ‘We could break the wheel off, so no one can close it,’ Guy suggested.

  ‘No, I think that will just draw attention. As it is you have to check the gauge before you can see the valve is open.’ Leo peered at the small glass panel, checking the position of the needle behind it. ‘Yes, that’s flowing.’

  ‘In that case…’ Guy bent down and scraped a handful of dirt and mud from the sole of his boot. He smeared it across the glass, obscuring the gauge.

  ‘Good idea,’ Leo said. ‘So, now what?’

  ‘Now we get the hell out of here before the fireworks start.’

  In theory, the two of them should be the only people left within the installation now it had been evacuated. But as they reached the edge of the main buildings, Guy could see a group of soldiers a short distance ahead of them making their way towards the fields behind the facility. They wore the distinctive darker uniforms of the SS.

  ‘Where the hell are they off to?’ Leo said.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Guy replied. ‘But if they keep going they’ll run right into Brinkman and Green.’

  ‘Then we’ve got to stop them.’ Leo broke into a run, Guy close behind.

  ‘Halt!’ Guy yelled in German.

  The soldiers stopped, waiting for Guy and Leo to reach them.

  ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ Guy demanded, breathless, as soon as they were close.

  ‘We are just following orders,’ one of the soldiers – a corporal – replied.

  ‘Whose orders?’ Guy asked. But he could guess. ‘You’re with Hauptsturmfuhrer Grebben, aren’t you? Did he order you to ignore the evacuation drill?’

  The corporal shifted uncomfortably and glanced at his colleagues. ‘We have our orders,’ he repeated.

  ‘And I have mine,’ Guy told him. ‘What instructions did the Hauptsturmfuhrer give you? You can either answer to me, or to a court martial. It’s your decision.’

  The corporal stiffened to attention. ‘Our orders were to wait for the drill to start, and then join him in the tunnels, under the field. There is—’

  ‘I know about the tunnels,’ Guy interrupted. ‘You said you were to join Grebben. Is he already in the tunnels?’

  ‘He is, sir.’

  ‘Then we will find him,’ Guy said. ‘If he has a legitimate reason for disobeying Sturmbannfuhrer Hoffman’s direct orders then he can explain it to me. You and your men will join the evacuation drill. At once.’

  As soon as the soldiers were out of earshot, Guy told Leo what the corporal had said.

  ‘If Grebben’s down in the Labyrinth, he could ruin everything,’ Leo said.

  ‘We have to find Hoffman and warn him,’ Guy decided.

  ‘He’s probably in the Labyrinth already,’ Leo pointed out as they started to run.

  ‘Then we go in after him and make sure nothing goes wrong.’

  * * *

  It was like he had been here before, in a dream, or so long ago he only half-remembered. The fields sloping down to the rocky ledge that itself then sloped down towards the sea. Hoffman knew exactly where the opening would be, and what it looked like.

  He climbed down through the narrow gap, easing himself into the subterranean Labyrinth. They were expecting him, which was good.

  * * *

  Dark liquid poured out of the socket in the side of the main pipe, splashing to the already sodden ground below. A vast pool of fuel oil was spreading down the slope, becoming a river flowing towards the rocky ledge.

  Brinkman and Green watched from the other side of the pipe. The smell was nauseating and getting worse.

  ‘We should probably get well clear, sir,’ Green said. ‘I’ve seen what that stuff can do to a man if it ignites.’

  ‘Back to Mihali,’ Brinkman agreed. ‘We can watch the progress from there, and make sure it gets to the where we need it.’

  ‘And if it doesn’t, sir?’

  ‘Then we pray.’

  CHAPTER 44

  By the time Guy and Leo reached the pipeline, fuel oil was pouring across the landscape. It collected in a slight dip in the field, forming a large pool. But soon it would lip over the edge and run across the rocky outcrop, then down into the tunnels. There was no sign of Hoffman.

  ‘You sure about this?’ Leo asked.

  ‘I don’t think we have much choice.’

  ‘Then let’s be quick.’

  ‘Agreed,’ Guy told him. ‘I’d like to be in and out of there before we get flooded.’

  They set off round the edge of the growing pool of oil, and clambered quickly across the rock shelf. In moments they were lowering themselves down through the narrow opening and into the Labyrinth.

  ‘Once more unto the breach,’ Leo muttered. ‘I keep hoping someone’s going to shout “Cut!” and give us notes.’

  ‘At least I have a torch this time,’ Guy said, pulling from his pocket and shining it down the tunnel.

  ‘I bet you were a boy scout, always prepared.’

  ‘I do my best. So, can you remember the way to the main chamber?’

  * * *

  ‘What the hell are they playing at?’ Brinkman said.

  He and Green were on their way to join Mihali, but Brinkman had looked back in time to see Leo and Guy hurrying across the rocky shelf and down into the Labyrinth.

  ‘No idea,’ sir,’ Green replied. ‘But I don’t think there’s much we can do to help them.’

  Brinkman had to agree. ‘Whatever it is, let’s hope they’re quick about it.’

  * * *

  Hoffman was expecting company. He walked slowly through the tunnel, light still filtering in from behind and above. They knew he was coming, and it was only a matter of time before something came to meet him.

  But the figure that stepped from a dark opening further along the tunnel was not one that Hoffman expected. ‘What are you doing here?’ he demanded.

  ‘I might ask you the same thing,’ Grebben replied. ‘Sir,’ he added, though there was no respect in his tone. He was holding a Luger, pointing it at Hoffman through the semi-darkness.

  ‘That is none of your business.’

  ‘Oh, but it is.’ Grebben stepped closer. ‘Standartenfuhrer Nachten ordered me to allow no one down here without his express permission. No one at all. He was very precise in his instructions, and the lengths I must go to in order to preserve this site.’

  ‘You think that applies to me? Or that I don’t have his permission?’

  ‘I have my orders. Just tell me what you are doing down here, sir.’

  Hoffman started down the tunnel towards Grebben. This was wasting time – time he didn’t have. ‘I don’t have to tell you anything. Get out of my way.’

  ‘I checked with Wewelsburg,’ Grebben said, stepping in front of Hoffman and blocking his way. ‘No one knows you are here.’

  ‘No one you spoke to, I’m sure. Did that include Reichsfuhrer Himmler?’

  There was a flicker of uncertainty in the shadows of Grebben’s face. He stepped back, the gun still raised. ‘You’re alone. Whatever happens between us down here, no one will ever know.’

  Hoffman gave a short laugh. ‘That’s certainly true. Now, I am in a hurry, so either get out of my way or shoot me.’

  ‘And if I shoot you?’

  ‘Then you are a dead man.’

  ‘No,’ Grebben said quietly. ‘No, that’s not how it works.’

  The flash was sudden and bright in the near-darkness. The sound of the gunshot echoed off the tunnel walls. Hoffman was knocked back several paces by the force of the bullet that hammered into his chest. He looked down at the smoking hole in his jacket, brushed at it with the back of his hand as he felt the flesh below begin to knit back together.

  Grebben stared in disbelief. ‘But – that’s not possible,’ he gasped.

  ‘Oh, I can assure you it is,’ Hoffman told him.
‘And I did warn you.’

  Hoffman’s bullet caught Grebben in the throat. He staggered backwards, dropping his own gun, clutching his neck. Dark liquid poured out over his hands, splashing to the floor. His whole body heaved, choked, convulsed. Then he was spewing blood, collapsing against the tunnel wall, sliding slowly down until he was a crumpled heap on the ground, the blood pooling darkly around him.

  Hoffman paused for long enough to take a torch out of his backpack. He shone it across Grebben’s body, waiting until the final spasms had subsided.

  He turned at the sound of running footsteps behind him. Torchlight flickered across the tunnel walls. Hoffman raised his gun, ready to put paid to any further delays.

  ‘No, wait – it’s us!’

  He lowered the gun as Guy Pentecross and Leo Davenport were revealed by the light of his own torch.

  ‘I see you found Grebben,’ Davenport said.

  ‘We ran into his men heading this way,’ Guy explained. ‘It’s all right, he added quickly, ‘we sent them off.’

  ‘Then you should get out of here too,’ Hoffman said. ‘The Vril are waiting. I can feel them scratching at my mind.’

  ‘We’ll come with you,’ Guy said. ‘Some of the way at least. Just in case Grebben wasn’t alone.’

  ‘I think he was,’ Hoffman said, glancing down at the body at his feet. ‘You should go back. It isn’t safe down here. You may already have left it too late.’

  ‘You mean the fuel?’ Guy said.

  ‘Not just that. The Vril can sense my approach. They know I have the key – the axe. They will close off the Labyrinth behind me to be sure I get to the main chamber.’

  ‘You mean we could be trapped down here?’ Leo said.

  Hoffman nodded. ‘Go,’ he repeated. ‘And good luck.’

  ‘You too,’ Guy told him.

  They shook hands. It seemed a strangely formal farewell. Then Hoffman continued down the tunnel. Guy and Leo watched him turn the corner, and disappear into darkness and shadow.

  * * *

  The liquid ran more quickly across the stone, pooling in hollows. The pools gradually joined as more liquid flowed in, finding its way down hill towards the cliffs. The way the ground dipped into the indented shape of the axe-head drew the liquid in. It poured down, like water over a weir. At the centre of the indentation, it sought out the opening into the labyrinth.

 

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