Time War: Invasion (23 page)

Corwin remained silent and waited, although he was trying to understand whether the attack was intended to kill them, or just alienate them from their allies, which was the effect it seemed to be having. He shrugged, for he had nothing to say.

“Captain, you may have achieved a valuable victory for us, but this price, this cost, it goes beyond. No Captain and his squad are worth this. The attack was in your name, so tell me, what is it that makes you people so special to the enemy?”

“It isn’t us,” replied Corwin in desperation.

“The Nazis want you dead more than almost anything on Earth, why? What are you not telling us?”

Corwin didn’t answer him and remained silent.

“Captain Corwin, if indeed that if your name. I have scoured our American contacts for some answers as to who or what you might be. No one has any answers that come close to explaining it. I will no longer go on in good faith with those who cannot be honest with me. If you will not come clean with some real explanation, I will have no choice but to place you under arrest, and assume that you are either spies or independent agents of some nature!”

The Brigadier stood and waited for the response. It was clear he would rather trust them, and have reason to, rather than the alternative, but Corwin could find nothing to say that could be convincing, not after this. He turned and looked to his people. They looked at a loss, and lastly he looked to Beyett in desperation. He wanted to know what to do, but Beyett only nodded to show he must go ahead with what they both knew was the only option. He looked back to the Brigadier and took a deep breath before coming out with it.

“I can be honest with you, Sir, but you will not like the answer.”

Everyone there waited with baited breath to hear his story and see the Brigadier's response.

“Give it your best shot, and as all these men as your witness. You will be judged accordingly!” he yelled.

Fires still burned, and bodies were being carried away around them. Corwin knew all hope was lost.

“Sir, you cannot discover our identity, because we are not from this lifetime.”

Dorey looked confused, but remained quiet and waited for him to go on.

“As impossible as it might sound, we are soldiers, but from a different war; a war well over a hundred years from now. We passed through some kind of portal chasing the leader of the enemy we faced, and followed that man here.”

Corwin fell silent and waited for the Brigadier to answer. He was mulling it over in his head, and he looked far from impressed.

“Time travel?” he finally asked in disgust.

The wounded Hotwell stepped forward in their defence.

“Sir, I must speak for Corwin and his squad, for I have seen…”

“Enough, Captain!” Dorey shouted.

Hotwell looked back to Corwin who only nodded in gratitude and gestured for him to step back.

“Captain Corwin, have you any means to substantiate these ridiculous claims?”

Corwin sighed and shook his head, as he already knew it was now useless.

“I have my word, and the evidence of our work.”

“I wish that were enough, Captain. You have cost this Battalion many lives, and you can offer no explanation as to your true nature. I have no choice but to ask that you lay down your weapons and submit to arrest until such time as we can get to the truth of this matter!”

“Fuck that, not again,” said Porter.

“Don’t you dare fuck this up,” Corwin snapped.

But he was shaking his head in disbelief and anger even as he said it.

“It doesn’t have to be this way!” he pleaded with Dorey.

“Your choice, Captain!”

"Way to go, landed us behind bars once again," said Porter.

Corwin shook his head and looked around at the room they had been locked away in. It appeared to be an armoury rather than a prison, and all twelve of them were there together. They could hear footsteps approaching, but Corwin didn't get up. He wasn't hopeful of any good news.

Hotwell strode into view. He was still wearing his ripped battledress blouse, and white bandages were visible through the gaps at the shoulder.

"You getting us out of here?" Vi asked.

He shook his head.

"If only I could. But I warned you about sharing wild stories of time travel. It took a lot for me to trust you, an awful lot. It was never going to be any easier with my superiors."

"Even though it is the truth?" Nylund asked naively.

"I will do what I can for you, but things aren't looking good right now. Troops are being mobilised across the country for something big. Most think the Germans will be attempting a major offensive on English soil."

"And we can help," replied Corwin.

Hotwell nodded. "Yes, I know, but it is out of my hands. There’s nothing I can do."

"Not good enough, Captain. You know we have a job to do."

"I will appeal to the Colonel and Brigadier Dorey directly, but I do not think they will listen to me."

"You have to try, for all of our sakes."

Hotwell smiled wanly and left, but none of them were hopeful.

"It was worth a shot," said Beyett.

"Really?" asked Tano, "You thought these people would ever believe such an outrageous story?"

Corwin said nothing.

"We are nothing more than freaks to them, just like Robak. We might as well be with the Nazis for all they care."

"Until we prove to them otherwise," said Nylund.

"Your pathetic attempt at chivalrous intent is laughable. Get back to the real world," replied Tano.

 
A day passed with them behind bars, and they were all becoming more and more concerned. Guards patrolled the building constantly. Corwin and Beyett were anxious of doing any harm to their allies, but they could see several among them were reaching a state where they would do anything to get out from captivity. Corwin watched Porter eyeing up one of the guards and imagining ways of taking him down. The tension in the room was reaching boiling point when Hotwell once again rushed in. He looked even more flustered than the last time.

"What is it?" Corwin asked.

"It's begun!"

"What?"

"The invasion!"

The guards stopped and looked at him in fear as they listened in.

"Seaborne landings all along the southeast coast, as well as multiple reports of airborne operations underway further to the north and west."

"How large?"

"Hard to say, but it's big," Hartwell answered.

"The beginning of the end," said Tano.

Corwin turned to him somewhat confused.

"That is what it was when the Allies did the same."

"What is he talking about?" Hotwell asked.

"In our time line, our history, the Allies launched one of the largest and most ambitious operations in human history. Seaborne and airborne landings in Northern France in June 1944. Hard to imagine how that could ever take place now," replied Beyett solemnly.

"And that was the beginning of the end," added Tano.

"Set us free. Let us help," Corwin begged him.

But Hotwell shook his head.

"I'd be shot for letting you out of here."

"And if you don't, you'll find an enemy bullet soon enough," snapped Vi.

"I'm sorry. I will try and get back to you tomorrow with more news. Maybe the Brigadier will see sense in these desperate days, and realise that you are of more use to us out there than in here."

He turned and left in a state of despair.

"Are we just going to sit around here and do nothing?"

"This is bigger than any of us, Nylund," replied Beyett, "The fight will come to us soon enough."

They fell silent and deep with thought. The silence was suddenly broken by a quiet laugh that got deeper and louder. It was coming from another locked room that they could not see into. It was an eerie sound, and they could do nothing but wait for whomever it was to speak.

"The best soldiers in your army, and here you are, locked in here with me."

They recognised it as the voice of Corporal Winter immediately. Beyett was already shaking his head.

"What the hell is he doing in here?" he asked Corwin, "He is one of the most significant pieces of captured enemy intelligence the Allies will ever know, and they left him here?"

Once again Winter laughed sadistically.

"What is so funny?" asked Corwin.

"That you think you can still fight and win this war. You think you have months or years to keep up this fight, when you only have days. It will soon be over."

Corwin looked to Beyett for answers. "What does he know that we don't?"

"No idea, but clearly we need to find out."

Corwin glanced over to the two guards that were watching them eagle eyed with Sten guns held across their bodies.

"All right, if we do this, nobody dies, you got it?" whispered Corwin.

They all nodded in agreement. He looked to Vi and Lecia and gave them the go ahead. The two women stepped up to the bars of the cells. Lecia drew out a small metal dart hidden in the lining of her coat. She looked back to Vi one last time to check she was ready before launching it with a snap of her wrist. The steel dart struck the one guard between the eyes with the blunt end and knocked him off his feet.

Before he had hit the ground, Vi threw out a fine flexible steel cord that latched onto the submachine gun of the other guard. She tugged back, and he was launched into the bars before her. He tried to wrestle the gun free, but she thrust her arm through the bars and around his neck, pinning him to the cell. He struggled for just a few seconds before passing out.

Rane stepped up to the main door and placed both hands on the bars beside the lock, bent it free, and then heaved the door open. It scraped along the floor from where it had buckled, but could not resist Rane's strength. He rushed to the first guard that Lecia had struck. The man was stunned and trying to regain his senses from lying flat on his back, but the last thing he saw was Rane's fist connecting with his nose and knocking him out cold.

Corwin rushed to the doorway where they had heard Winter's voice coming from. There was a small barred window at eye level on a heavily reinforced doorway. The German Corporal sat at the back of the cell looking completely relaxed and with a smug grin on his face. Corwin took hold of the reinforced frame on the front of the door and tried to pull it open, but he got nothing.

He turned just in time to see Lecia toss him a set of keys from one of the guards. He went through each of the five on the ring, but none seemed to match.

"Guess they really did throw away the key on this one," he said.

"They wouldn't allow guards access to a prisoner this dangerous," replied Beyett.

"Rane, give me a hand."

"It's no good. You're not getting in. Don't you think I would have been out of here by now if that were the case?"

"We'll see."

"Rane grabbed hold of the door and pulled with Corwin until one of the outer bars buckled slightly, but it had no effect on the structure. Rane pushed Corwin aside and kicked at the lock. There was an almighty crash as his foot landed, but still the door stood as firmly as Winter's smile. But Rane was not deterred. He hit it again, and again, until on the fifth strike the door caved slightly. Winter leapt to his feet and to the side of the cell, realising what was coming next. Rane's foot hit the door one last time, and it was launched off its hinges and smashed into the wall where Winter had been just seconds before. It crashed down to the floor of the cell.

Winter looked genuinely scared now as the towering Rane ducked in through the doorway and stood before him. Corwin stepped inside beside him with Porter taking up the other flank.

"You are going to tell us everything you know," said Corwin.

"Or what?" he asked defiantly.

"Or I leave you to the mercy of him," said Corwin, pointing to Porter who was holding the pig sticker bayonet from one of the guard's Sten guns.

"You'd be amazed what I could do with this," he said with a smile.

"You won't use torture. The noble allies, you would never dream it."

Porter stepped forward with another word and grabbed Winter by the throat. He was strong and tried to resist, but not strong enough. Porter lifted him off his feet and drove the bayonet into his shoulder. The German let out a cry of pain before going limp and stopping his resistance. Porter drew out the blade and dropped him back to his feet.

"I'll never tell you anything," Winter spat defiantly.

"It's gonna be a long night," Corwin replied.

* * *

Captain Hotwell rushed into the former armoury to deliver the news, only to stop dead on finding Harland standing on guard with a Sten gun in hand just inside the entrance of the building.

"How the hell did you get out?"

But no response came. A scream of pain echoed through the halls, and Hotwell hurried on towards the cells. As he got to where he had last left Corwin, he found Winter tied to the top of a table, and the two guards tied to chairs beside him. Winter was covered in blood and heavily bruised from a beating.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Then he recognised the German soldier and shook his head.

"What on earth is he even doing here?"

"A good question," replied Corwin, "I told you how important this man was."

"And I made that clear to the Colonel."

"Obviously not clear enough, Captain."

"Okay, but you can't just torture him. You know what a crime this is?"

"You know how little that will matter if this country falls?"

 
Hotwell stood back, but he was far from comfortable with the situation.

"You think torture will get the information you want? A hundred and something years of development and these are your interrogation techniques? It's barbaric."

"You might be surprised how helpful people can be with the right motivation," replied Porter. He then grasped the bayonet that was embedded in the Corporal's shoulder. He began to apply sideways pressure until Winter squirmed, and then punched him in the side of his already badly bruised and bloodied face.

"You're too late to save him," said Winter.

His eyes were rolling, and he looked dazed and barely even awake.

"Save who?" Hotwell asked.

Suddenly the Captain's tone had turned from concern for the prisoner to curiosity and intrigue.

"Your precious Churchill," he said and began laughing as he spat out blood.

Hotwell's face was overcome with a look of terror.

"The Prime Minister?"

When he got no response, he wrapped his hands around Winter's throat and shook him.

"Tell me!"

"He's a dead man, and there is nothing you can do to stop it."

"This is what you were trained for, you and others like you?"

Winter nodded as Hotwell let go his grasp and stepped back in despair.

"Churchill?" Porter asked.

The name meant little to most of them.

"Only one of the most important wartime leaders of the century," Beyett explained, "Without Churchill to lead this nation, victory may never have been had."

"He is really that important?" Corwin asked.