Kingdom of Darkness

by Andy McDermott

  Roland shook his head, conflicted. ‘I do not know what to do . . .’ He finally looked up at Eddie. ‘But I promised Julieta that I would help you find Dr Wilde, and I will keep my promise.’

  He set off again, Eddie staring angrily after him before following. ‘How do I get into this prison?’

  ‘There is only one entrance, and there is a guard room beyond it. But you will be able to talk to Dr Wilde from outside – there is a hole for air in the back wall.’ He glanced back with a half-smile. ‘I used to sneak around and talk to Volker through it when he was in the prison for getting into trouble.’ The smile faded at the thought of his late brother.

  ‘So you went outside the Enklave to hook up with Julieta, and talked to your brother in secret when he was in the slammer? You don’t always follow orders, then. There’s hope for you yet.’ Eddie was already working out possible plans of action; if he reached the prison unseen, he could get Nina to create a distraction inside her cell while he entered the building . . .

  Roland stopped behind a clump of trees. ‘Sentries walk along this path,’ he explained, indicating a route circling the settlement. A barbed-wire fence ran along its outer side.

  The Englishman checked in both directions. ‘I haven’t seen anyone.’

  ‘No. That is strange, we always have a night watch. It must be because of the rally.’

  ‘What rally?’

  ‘The Führer, Herr Kroll – he ordered everyone to attend a rally tonight. I do not know why, though. A big announcement.’

  Eddie regarded the floodlights. ‘They were building something on a parade ground with a stage at one end – is that where they’re holding it?’

  ‘Yes. I saw them taking wood to it, but I do not know what they are making.’

  ‘You said everyone’s going to be there?’ Eddie asked. Roland nodded. ‘So I might be able to get into this prison while it’s going on?’

  ‘Perhaps. The order was given to everybody in the Enklave.’ He pointed towards some bushes forty metres past the fence. ‘There is a trench behind them. We can use it to get closer.’

  ‘Lead on.’ Eddie let Roland go first, still keeping the gun at the ready. The young man had seemed genuinely devastated on learning what had happened to his twin, but he might still fall back on learned behaviour and protect his leaders by betraying his new companion.

  For now, though, there was no indication that he meant to give away Eddie’s presence. They crawled under the fence, then Roland led the way to the end of the ditch, bringing the pair to within a hundred metres of the buildings. The nearest was a large and ugly block silhouetted by lights behind. ‘Okay, where are we?’ Eddie asked.

  ‘That is the motor pool and the auto workshops,’ Roland told him. ‘We will have to go all the way around the compound to reach the prison from here.’

  The young man started to move, but Eddie held his arm. ‘Wait – that garage, is there a back door?’

  ‘No, but . . . I know a way to get inside without being seen. Volker and I used to sneak in to play in the trucks when we were children.’ A quizzical glance. ‘Why do you want to go inside?’

  ‘’Cause when I get Nina out, I don’t want a hundred pissed-off fucking Nazis chasing after me in half-tracks.’ He nudged Roland on.

  ‘We only have trucks, and some jeeps. And tractors,’ Roland told him as they cautiously crossed the open ground.

  ‘What about the railway? Are there any trains?’

  ‘Yes, there is a steam engine, but it has not run for years.’

  They reached the rear of the garage. Eddie peered warily around its corner, ducking back as two men walked past on the building’s far side. However, they were not looking in his direction. He leaned out again, seeing that they were heading towards the floodlit glare of the parade ground. More Nazis trooped by. ‘Looks like this rally’s about to start. That’ll keep ’em occupied, then. How do we get in?’

  ‘Here.’ Roland moved to a pile of old tyres and assorted machine parts against the side wall. He rolled a rusting truck wheel back a few feet to expose a dark hole at the bottom of the flaking planks.

  Eddie bent to look through. The garage had shutters fronting each work bay, and some were open, letting in spill from the floodlights. But the interior itself was unlit. He made out vehicles lurking within, and more trucks and jeeps just outside. ‘Do they keep all their cars and stuff here?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He weighed up his options. Desperate as he was to save Nina, it was unlikely that he could simply march into the prison, gun blazing, and bring her out. But if the guards were at the rally, or if only a single man was left on watch . . . ‘When does the rally start?’

  ‘In twenty minutes,’ Roland told him.

  Eddie made a decision. ‘Okay, wait here. I’m going to sort out these trucks.’ The blond man retreated, leaving him to crawl through the little opening.

  The garage smelled strongly of spilled diesel and grease. This end of the building was home to racks holding tools and boxes of engine parts, as well as ranks of jerry cans and fuel drums. He crept past them to find a dented six-wheeled truck that from its dated styling appeared at least thirty years old. None of the other vehicles were any younger, so sabotaging them wouldn’t be difficult.

  He neared an open garage door, getting his first clear look at the floodlit parade ground – and froze.

  Construction work had finished. The fruits of the Nazis’ labours now stood before the stage.

  A pair of gallows.

  Each of the tall beams stood sixteen feet high, a noose already hanging from the cross-beam of one while a man on a ladder threaded a second rope into place on its neighbour.

  Two gallows. Two prisoners. Eddie already knew who was due for the drop. A Mossad agent was an enemy the Nazis would want rid of as quickly as possible, and since Roland had said Banna was not in the cell, that meant Kroll had decided which archaeologist he was going to use to find the spring. And it wasn’t the stroppy redhead from New York.

  A flash of pride that Nina had told the obese Nazi where to go was overpowered by fear for her life. She and Zane would be the main attraction at the impending rally. The stage was backed by huge swastika banners, men already assembling before it with red armbands standing out under the glaring lights. How the hell was he going to save them from the hangman with over a hundred Nazis watching?

  He slipped back into the shadows as more young men passed the garage. Their reaction to the sight of the gallows was the opposite of his: an expectant thrill. ‘Goose-stepping little shits,’ he muttered – but then he took a closer look. They were all in uniform, but none appeared armed. A hundred Nazis, but no guns . . .

  A glance back at the tool shelves, and he had his plan. He returned to the hole to see Roland still outside. ‘Herr Chase,’ whispered the youth. ‘Have you finished?’

  ‘Change of plan,’ Eddie replied. ‘Look, you know this place well, right? Ways to move around without being seen, hiding places, that kind of thing?’

  ‘Yes. Ever since we were children, Volker and I explored the Enklave whenever we could.’

  ‘Good, ’cause we’re gonna need ’em. Is there somewhere you can wait for me behind that stage?’

  Roland looked uncomfortable. ‘Everyone is expected to attend the rally. I should already be in my quarters to put on my uniform – if I am late, they will search for me. And if they are searching for me, they may find you.’

  ‘They’ll wish they hadn’t.’

  ‘But if anyone is missed, the whole Enklave will be placed on alert, and you will never save your wife and your friends. I must go, I am sorry. But there is a red hut on the far side of the parade ground; under it, there is room to hide if you can get in without being seen. I will meet you there.’ Seeing the Englishman’s doubting expression, he added: ‘I promised Jul
ieta I would help you. I would never lie to her – so I will not lie to you.’

  Eddie was still dubious, but was also running out of time. ‘Okay then,’ he finally said. ‘You go and get ready.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘Fix those trucks. And get some weapons.’

  Roland frowned, puzzled. ‘But there are no weapons in there.’

  Eddie gave him a sardonic smile. ‘People always said the Nazis were unimaginative . . .’

  28

  Nina looked up as the cell door swung open, revealing four men waiting outside.

  Four men dressed in full Waffen-SS uniforms.

  Zane drew in a sharp breath at the sight, and she felt a chill of disbelieving fear. These were not costumes; they were real. The Nazis were supposed to be dead and gone, as much a part of history as Alexander the Great. Yet they had survived, trapdoor spiders patiently waiting in their remote hiding hole, ready to re-emerge as cruel and evil as ever . . .

  All carried sub-machine guns. The leader jabbed his weapon at the prisoners. ‘Stand up. Now.’

  ‘Fick dich ins Knie,’ Zane told them with a defiant snarl. The lead Nazi’s lip curled in anger – then he clubbed the Israeli with his gun. Two of his companions joined in, the fourth man pointing his weapon at Nina to deter her from interfering.

  ‘Leave him alone, you bastards!’ she yelled. They ignored her, each man getting in one final blow on the Mossad agent before he was hauled up and his hands cuffed behind his back.

  ‘It is time,’ intoned the leader. ‘Move.’ He and another man dragged Zane out as the remaining pair secured Nina’s hands, then took her by both arms and followed.

  The concrete jail’s outer door was opened – and she heard men chanting in unison as an amplified voice echoed above the noise, ranting in German.

  Kroll. The Nazi leader had started his rally, working his troops into a frenzy of hatred. She felt sick. This was not a decades-old recording. This was happening now.

  To her.

  The soldiers took their prisoners through the heart of the Enklave to an open area under piercing floodlights. Ranks of uniformed men stood on each side as Nina and Zane were brought towards a stage at the opposite end.

  On it sat the Nazi leaders, looking down upon their followers as if on thrones. Schneider. Gausmann. Walther. Rasche. And standing upon a rostrum at the centre of the stage, his bloated body squeezed into a black SS uniform, was Kroll, one hand repeatedly stabbing the air to emphasise his words. The crowd roared a horrifying response to each proclamation: ‘Sieg heil! Sieg heil! Heil Hitler!’

  Nina glanced fearfully at the audience. Faces twisted in loathing turned towards the two captives. The Nazi rank-and-file ranged in age from their teens to their fifties; the water in the pithos had not been shared. She saw only one hard-faced woman amongst the men, as caught up in the mania as her male companions. Arms stretched aloft in rigid salutes. ‘Heil Hitler! Heil Hitler!’

  But the crowd was not the most terrifying aspect of the rally. Nina stiffened in fear as she was forced ever closer to the two gallows. A tall wooden stool stood before each, nooses dangling above them.

  Kroll’s gaze turned to the new arrivals. ‘And now here are the spies,’ he barked, switching seamlessly to English. None of the audience had any difficulty understanding him; the change was to terrorise the prisoners. ‘This agent of the Jewish Mossad is the reason we must act now to protect our future. Where there is one rat, more will soon follow, so we must leave before they find us – but this rat will not live to see that happen!’

  ‘Sieg heil! Sieg heil!’ Men on each side screamed and jeered at Zane.

  ‘And with the Mossad agent is an American puppet of the Zionists,’ Kroll continued, ‘an official of the United Nations!’ Boos and abuse came from the crowd. ‘She was given the chance to renounce her allegiance and serve the New Reich, but she refused – so now she will pay the price!’

  Nina and Zane were taken past the front row of baying Nazis to the gallows. There they were separated and hauled to the stools. The Israeli tried to break loose, but was beaten to his knees. Kroll glowered down at them. ‘This is the fate of all enemies of the Reich,’ he intoned, his voice echoing from loudspeakers around the square. ‘All those who oppose us will die! Der Henker wird nun seinen Platz einnehmen.’

  His reversion to German startled Nina, but his instruction soon became clear. Gausmann stood and descended to the twin gallows. White gloves covered his hands. He was not just the Enklave’s chief torturer; he was also its executioner.

  ‘No,’ gasped Nina, shrinking back. Her guards gripped harder, holding her in place. Gausmann went to Zane first, pushing the noose over his head and pulling it chokingly tight around his neck before turning to Nina. ‘Get back! Get the fuck back!’ she yelled, kicking at him. She caught him on the shin; he flinched, then punched her in the stomach. She doubled over before being yanked upright by the soldiers. ‘Schlampe,’ the German hissed as he forced the noose into place and tugged it hard.

  Kroll’s voice boomed from the speakers with triumphant fury, whipping the crowd into a frenzy. Gausmann checked the ropes, then signalled to the Nazi leader. ‘Pull them up!’ Kroll ordered.

  The lines were raised via pulleys, snapping taut. The noose dug deeply into Nina’s throat. She tried to scream, but it was compressing her windpipe. Pain crackled through her neck as she was hauled upwards. For a terrifying moment she thought her spine would snap under the unsupported weight of her own body . . . but then the two guards took her by the legs, relieving the torment.

  But only slightly. She still couldn’t breathe, desperately trying to draw in air as she was lifted to stand upon the high stool. The rope’s pull ceased when her boots touched down on its flat top, leaving her wobbling over five feet off the ground.

  Zane was raised into position beside her. The ropes were secured around hooks on the vertical poles. Nina squinted at the crowd through pain-squeezed eyes, a sea of screaming faces and armbands red as blood. ‘Sieg heil! Sieg heil! Sieg heil!’ Their animalistic roar was almost physical, threatening to push her from her treacherous footing by sheer volume. She clenched her toes, trying to hold herself steady—

  The most frightening realisation of all struck her. The drop was not enough to kill them from the fall alone. A longer plunge would sever the spine, causing near-instant death through shock . . . but this would leave the victims conscious as they slowly strangled, kicking and writhing for the howling crowd’s entertainment.

  She looked across at Zane. He glanced back, jaw clenched tight in a refusal to show fear – but she could see it in his eyes.

  And he could see it in hers.

  Gausmann stepped behind her as the guards retreated. ‘The American will be the first to die,’ Kroll announced with relish. Every muscle in her body quivered as she fought to stay upright. The crowd blurred behind tears, becoming an amorphous mass of hatred and rage. ‘Drei! Zwei! Eins!’ The awful roar briefly subsided in anticipation . . .

  A flare of light and colour arced in from one side of the square—

  Glass smashed – and screams erupted behind Nina as a Molotov cocktail exploded between the four guards, splashing them with liquid fire and setting their clothing and hair aflame.

  Gausmann instinctively jumped away as burning petrol sluiced across the space between the stage and the gallows. A second Molotov hurtled over the floodlit parade ground, bursting in the crowd’s front rows. The unity of the chant changed to discordant shrieks of pain and fear as the audience broke ranks and scattered, trying to flee both the blaze and their flaming comrades. The Nazi leaders stampeded for the back of the stage as Eddie rushed into the square, gun in his right hand – and a fire axe in his left.

  One of the four men hit by his first bomb had only been caught on the sleeve, managing to tear off his uniform jac
ket before raising his weapon—

  The Englishman’s bullet blew a bloody chunk from his skull. The Nazi fell back into the fire. The other three guards were wreathed in flames, agony as their skin charred and blistered overpowering any thoughts of retaliation.

  Eddie angled towards the gallows. Gausmann saw him coming. With no gun of his own, the executioner turned to run – but then lunged back at Nina to kick the stool away—

  A gunshot hit him in the chest. He fell between the two scaffolds, one lashing foot missing the stool by barely an inch.

  Eddie ran to the gallows. He swung the axe, severing the rope, then spun to catch his wife as she fell. ‘Whoa! Got you.’

  ‘Eddie, oh my God!’ Nina gasped as he dropped her on to her feet. ‘I thought you were – look out!’

  An armed Nazi barged through the panicked crowd. His sub-machine gun came up—

  Eddie sent the axe whirling across the gap to slam deep into the man’s ribcage. He fell backwards, spewing gore. The other Nazis around him fought even harder to get away, trampling each other as the regimented crowd broke up into a frantic scrum. One of the floodlight towers toppled and fell as men were forced against it, crushing several as it hit the ground, its bulbs exploding in showers of sparks. ‘You thought I was what?’ he asked Nina, about to untie her hands before realising they were handcuffed.

  ‘I thought you were dead!’

  ‘So did these arseholes, thank God. Where are the keys?’

  Nina nodded towards the smouldering uniform jacket. ‘That guy’s pocket.’

  Eddie started for it – then saw that Gausmann was not dead. The executioner’s chest wound was gushing blood, but still he managed to lever himself on to his side . . .

  To kick away Zane’s stool.

  A round from Eddie’s pistol exploded from the back of Gausmann’s skull – but the Israeli was already falling. He let out a strangled cry—