Time War: Invasion (7 page)

“If they find you here, they will kill you. Please, let me show you to somewhere safe.”

Corwin looked to Beyett for answers, as he seemed to understand it better than any of them. He simply nodded in approval. Corwin shook his head. He hated shying away from a fight.

“All right, get everyone down here,” he said to Lecia, “but you and Frasi stay up top to cover us if we get into any trouble.”

She rushed off without another word as Bossan drew back a large rug in the centre of the room. It revealed a large trap door in the middle of the planked floor. He pulled it back and ushered Corwin and the others down into the dark cellar. He slammed the door behind them and placed the rug back, although they could still see the cracks through the rest of the floorboards around the rug.

“Hide? That’s your answer?” Harland asked in disgust.

“Don’t presume to know anything about the shit storm we have landed in,” replied Beyett.

The ten of them were crammed in tight and could not help but feel caged. They were silent on hearing the vehicles come to a halt next to the house. Corwin pulled out his pistol and held it at the ready. He didn’t like this plan at all, and had not felt so uneasy in some time.

“That old fool is going to get us killed,” said Porter.

“Have a little faith,” said Beyett, “These people endured a war just as bitter as the one we know. He’s been nothing but good to us.”

They could hear the sound of boots hitting the ground as the vehicles unloaded, and the heavy footsteps of the officers striding towards the door. It went quiet, and then finally two heavy knocks on the door.

“Open up!” a voice called.

The man spoke with a deep and booming voice. His German accent was evident, but his English was clear and precise. Bossan paced casually and calmly to the door, opening it as if to welcome guests.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” he said politely.

“Good morning,” the response came. The two officers stepped through into his house without being invited in. Corwin could already tell it was not a comfortable situation. He felt his pulse rising as he always would before a fight. His hand clenched his pistol tightly, and he felt a little sweat drop from his brow.

“This fucking sucks,” whispered Porter.

But Corwin did not respond, as he listened intently for every movement and word above them. The footsteps continued, and through a gap in the floorboards he saw the two officers enter the room. They wore the field grey uniforms of the German military, but it was Beyett who pointed to the Death’s Head symbols on their caps.

“SS,” he whispered.

Corwin knew that name and had some understanding of what it meant.

“How can I help you gentlemen?” Bossan asked.

“We have reports of a group of clandestine enemy forces in the area, you have not encountered any such activity?” asked one.

Bossan sighed. “I am sorry, but I have been asleep all night, and my sight is not quite what is used to be,” he jested.

“I never said anything about night.”

Corwin could hear the flap of one of the officers’ leather holsters open, and a pistol be drawn. It made him anxious, and it was soon followed by the cocking mechanism of the pistol.

“You have three seconds to tell me the whereabouts of these enemy combatants.”

Corwin felt Beyett’s hand on his shoulder in an attempt to restrain him, but he could feel his blood boiling. It wasn’t often he had known such kindness as Bossan had shown them, and the anger was causing his hands to shake with a bitter hatred for this new threat. An enemy they had never known. He had known the Nazis were the enemy of his ancestors, but it had meant nothing to him.

Beyett leaned in close and whispered in Corwin’s ear.

“If we interfere, we could well cause as much damage as Villiers himself.”

But it was too late to change his mind because the German officer began the count down.

“Three seconds...tell us where the enemy is, and we shall spare your life, or do you wish to die for the English and American dogs who left you behind? What do you owe them? Tell us where they are, and you may go on with your life without any further repercussions.”

“I have seen no foreigners here besides yourselves.”

Beyett shook his head. He knew that would only serve to infuriate the SS officers.

“Three seconds to save your life…three…two….”

The floorboards burst open like a bomb going off as Corwin jumped out from hiding. The two officers were utterly stunned, and one staggered back against the far wall. Corwin took aim at the one holding the gun and fired two shots into his chest, killing him instantly. He turned the weapon on the other and put three into the centre of his body. He slumped down dead in front of Bossan, who could do nothing but stare at the brutality in his home.

Footsteps of the two nearest soldiers on guard could be heard rushing towards them, and Bossan stood between them and him. Corwin leapt for the entrance to the room as they entered. Both wore the field grey German uniforms he remembered from the movies, but also had torso body armour that seemed entirely anachronistic. He fired two shots into their chests, but neither got through. They were carrying large magazine fed assault rifles and both were being brought to bear on Corwin.

He rushed towards them firing into the face of the nearest and grabbed hold of the muzzle of the rifle of the second. He pulled it aside, just as the soldier pulled the trigger, and fully automatic fire peppered the wall of the room. Corwin smashed the barrel of his pistol into the man's face, grasped him by the throat, and launched him across the room. His superhuman strength propelled the man five metres, and he smashed into the wall above the fireplace, tumbling back to the floor in a stunned state. Before he could recover, Vi fired a shot into his face as she leapt out from the basement.

Another soldier rushed into the room, but before he could lift his rifle, Corwin drove a kick into the centre of his chest armour and launched him through the bay window. The glass shattered as he cannoned through it and tumbled into the open top staff car parked outside, much to the shock and amazement of those rushing to the entrance of the house. Then Corwin noticed the gunner on the top of the truck swivel the weapon around to take aim.

"Down!" he yelled.

He jumped for cover; the gun opened up like a jackhammer. Even as he was flying through the air, the glass of the window was hitting the side of his face. He could do nothing but hunker down on the floor as the deafening weapon tore the room apart. Lecia leaned out from the window of the highest room in the house and quickly took aim at the gunner. She squeezed the trigger, and the shot hit the man's helmet. It passed right through and exited at his jaw to kill him instantly. A hail of gunfire was turned her way, and she leapt nimbly back from the shots peppering the window frame.

“Is there a way out from the cellar to the outside?” Corwin shouted across to Bossan.

He nodded and pointed, but before he said a word, they heard the sound of one of their rifles rattle off outside. Corwin got up and looked through the shattered window. Rane and Porter had already made it through and were firing on fill auto. A grenade was tossed though the window, and he saw it just in time. He jumped and caught it before it could land, tossing it back out with such lightning speed and reactions that Bossan couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Rane’s clip ran empty, and instead of reloading, he too made a running leap and landed on top of the truck beside where the gunner’s body lay slumped over the cabin roof. The suspension rocked from his huge weight landing and almost caused it to go up on two wheels. He picked up the dead body with one hand, threw him out of the cab, and then took up the machine gun. The heavy and long barrelled weapon looked tiny in his hands, but he took aim and pulled the trigger.

Six of the German soldiers were struck down as if by firing squads, their bodies riddled with fire from the weapon and driven up against the side of the house. Finally, the belt of ammunition ran dry, but that wouldn’t stop Rane. He jumped from the truck and cleared several metres. He hit the ground running at one of the soldiers who was panicking and firing randomly. Two of the shots hit Rane’s body armour, while another passed through his left tricep. He brushed it off and rushed at the man, striking him like a truck.

The soldier was launched into the air and hit the side of the house so hard several bricks were dislodged. He was immediately incapacitated and dropped limply to the ground. He turned to see another of the German soldiers about to fire at him point blank, but Frasi seemed to descend out of nowhere and land on top of the soldier. In one quick and precise action he slit his throat with a tiny, but razor sharp blade. The soldier collapsed with Frasi still on his back.

Corwin picked up the nearest rifle from one of their fallen adversaries and rushed into the hallway as five soldiers were making their way inside. He fired a burst into the legs of the first and the face of the second, before ducking back into the room he had come from.

He was about to return fire when Chas passed him at speed. She went into a dive through the entrance and below the gunfire. She looked so peaceful, focused, and precise that it was more like a dance than a fight. She rolled across the floor and rose up in front of the three remaining soldiers. She held a pistol in each hand and placed one each against two of the soldiers’ kneecaps and fired. Both dropped to the ground screaming in agony.

She brought both pistols together, fired two shots with each into the third soldier’s face, then stood up and double tapped the two wounded in the head also. She looked back to Corwin as if expecting some kind of praise. She looked both happy with her own work, and high on some kind of drug. He was never sure if she was crazier and sicker than Porter.

“Feels just like home,” she finally said with a wicked smile.

“You’re fucked up, you know that?” Nylund asked and strode out into the corridor.

“Where the fuck were you?” asked Corwin.

“Covering the side entrance,” he replied quickly.

“Enough of the jealousy, boys,” replied Chas, “We can’t all be masters of our art.”

Corwin shook his head. She seemed so far out of touch with reality it was almost funny. As it happens, he’d live with her craziness because it came with exceptional ability. A final few gunshots rang out from outside, and then all was quiet. There were no screams of the wounded. His team was not trained to take prisoners or leave survivors. Some enjoyed that part of the job more than others. Corwin looked around as Bossan stepped into the hallway open mouthed. But Corwin knew it wasn’t the sight of blood or death that was bothering him so much.

“Who are you people?”

He was silenced, and none of them had a simple way of explaining it. Beyett stepped into view.

“All you need to know is that we are here to help.”

“That is what the Germans keep telling us, and you can see the extent of their help.”

Corwin didn’t know what to do or say, but Bossan seemed to calm down all by himself as he reflected on all that had happened.

“You did that for me? You could just as well have stayed hidden and let them kill me?”

Corwin shrugged.

“Why? You don’t even know me.”

“Why did you take us in? Why did you help any of us?”

It was a deeply warming thought to Bossan, and he began to accept they were not the enemy.

“I am sorry I cannot be any clearer,” Corwin said, “All I can tell you is that we are on a mission of the utmost of importance. A mission far greater than you may even begin to imagine or understand. A lot more than your freedom is at stake, and beyond that, I must ask you take my word.”

Beyett was shocked and surprised at Corwin’s empathy and ability to defuse the situation so well. He had no idea where that had come from.

“Tell me how I can help?” Bossan asked enthusiastically.

“You have done more than enough already,” replied Beyett, “Find somewhere safe to ride this out.”

But he shook his head.

“No need. The Allies will be here tonight. It will be chaos. This will be no problem.”

Beyett looked confused. He could not think what could be happening in France in 1943.

“This town, what’s it called?”

“Dieppe.”

Beyett’s face was gaunt with a look of horror.

“They’re trying again?”

“Again? We’ve not known Allied soldiers on our soil since the disaster at Dunkerque.”

“What is it?”

Beyett shook his head and would not answer Corwin.

“You must go quickly. There will surely be more soldiers along shortly. I will stay out of sight until the night, but you must go,” said Bossan.

Corwin was not at all certain what they should do, but he knew Bossan was right.

“Everyone grab your gear. We’re leaving!” he bellowed.

He offered out his hand to Bossan to thank him, before turning and leaving over the line of bodies.

“You’re a good man. Stay safe,” he replied as he headed out the door.

“Round up any weapons and ammunition you can. We’re gonna need them,” he said, picking up one of the assault rifles and six magazines from two of the bodies.

“Pretty sure these shouldn’t even exist yet,” said Beyett as he did the same.

“Changes of events. Equipment ahead of its time, what are you telling me?”

“That the only explanation for this is someone having changed time.”

“But how? Villiers only just arrived.”

“So you think, but you don’t know that.”

Corwin shook his head in disbelief, beginning to consider the prospect Beyett was proposing. He didn’t want to think about it for now; they had enough problems just surviving.

It was a beautifully sunny day with perfect visibility, but fortunately they didn’t have far to go. Corwin led them back to the track where they first found the house and carried on to the wood.

“1943? What a fucking joke!”

“Hey, Porter, what did you have to live for in our time?” Nylund asked.

“Yeah, you can enjoy killing in this time just as easily,” added Vi.

Porter smiled in response, for he knew it to be true. They carried on for a mile into the wood, deep enough in that they were well concealed when Corwin called them to a halt. He took a seat on a fallen tree as they gathered around him.

“So what’s the deal here, Boss?” Vi asked.

“Not quick on the take up, are you, bitch?”

“Hey, fuck you, Porter, it’s not like you have all the answers.”

“Enough!” Corwin shouted, “Only one thing seems certain right now, and that is we are in deep shit. So let’s not build on the stack of shit that is already resting on us, okay? Let’s put our heads together and try and work this out.”

“You’re the boss. It’s your call,” Nylund said in a rather unhelpful fashion.

Corwin wanted to put him down for the comment, knowing he was both a hypocrite and an asshole, but he knew it wouldn’t be productive.

“I run operations planned on a large scale by hundreds of far smarter people than any of us. I’m a squad leader, not a goddamn shot caller. So yes, I’m still in charge here, but a little input would be nice. Beyett, you know more about this age than any of us, and you’re the smartest. I’m gonna rely very heavily on you in the coming days and weeks, if we make it that far. Of all of us, Beyett is the number one most important member of this team, so you protect him at all costs, you got it?”

Most of them nodded in agreement.

“Beyett, you clearly have a lot more to say about all this, so start talking.”

Beyett took in a deep breath as he thought it all over and tried to put it into words that would make sense to them all.

“It’s 1943, but not as I learnt of it. Someone has changed this time line. We interfered with the time machine when it was in operation. Clearly, we weren’t supposed to arrive in this time. Those two things being the case, it begs the question, where did Villiers arrive? Or when, more specifically?”

“You’re saying Villiers got here ahead of us somehow?”

“That’s exactly what he’s saying, Vi,” added Harland, “Fucking with that machine really did us a lot of good.”

“I don’t think it matters at all,” Chas commented.

They were all surprised to hear her have any sensible input and waited for her to continue.

“Our job is to end Villiers, doesn’t matter in what country, in what time, or on what planet we do it.”

They were all dumbfounded. It was logical, even if it sounded crazy.

“But the next problem is this,” Beyett continued, “Every change that is made in this time has the potential to radically change everything in our own time. Or what was our time. It is the domino effect. Something as simple as a conversation with a local could make vast changes to all our futures. We shouldn’t even have encountered Bossan, let alone picked a fight with those soldiers.”