Moral Compass (The Samuel Beasley Trilogy Book 1)

by Adam J Watts

  Seb rose slowly from his arched position at the other end of the room. As he did so, his eyes never broke contact with those of the German on the aerial walkway.

  'It's been a while.’

  'Indeed it has. You look older.'

  'As do you... Can we dispense with the pleasantries?'

  Hackbeil laughed before speaking once more.

  'Are you sure that is what you would like Herr Beasley? Observe your current predicament.' Out came the arm again in a wave like motion. 'To consider this anything other than check in our little game would be foolish.’

  'Perhaps, but I still have one move left to make.’

  'Oh yes?' he enquired with a strange sense of excitement.

  'Yes.’

  With the press of a button, Seb had sent a signal to the explosives on the roof of the building. Within seconds the supporting steelwork was buckling under the pressure and Seb was making the aforementioned move to cover.

  'Open season Max! Cover me.’ Seb shouted as loud as he could, hoping that his friend had heard the request. He needed to get to the other side of the room before Hackbeil could escape him once more.

  The helicopters that were ordered to respond on sight of an explosion would not be able to provide support for much longer. The forces at the base were beginning to fight back.

  In the distance he could see the old Nazi. He was clinging to the railing of the walkway as the bolts began to come loose. It would only be a matter of seconds before the whole thing came down and Seb wanted to be there when it did.

  Using various items within the building for cover, he began his advance forward. He trusted his Russian friend implicitly and despite the advancing years, he was still one of the most accurate shots around.

  With his head down Seb slid behind a hospital bed. That was when it happened. The walkway collapsed bringing the soldiers and Hackbeil down to earth with an almighty clatter. Some would not survive the fall, some would be injured, but the majority would be in no state to fight effectively.

  'Barricade the doors!' he shouted to Max who illustrated his understanding by running towards the first one. Slowly and with purpose Seb strode through the cement dust. If anything moved on either side of him he put a bullet into it. He had but one goal and that was lying in a crumpled heap, a series of twisted metal framework atop of it.

  'You had better not be dead,' he said with feeling.

  'Of course I am not dead.' Hackbeil groaned, 'I am far too important to die in this way.’

  'As modest as ever,' Seb mused.

  'Naturally,’ he replied with a splutter. 'Help me up ja?' Seb began clearing the debris from around the stricken German, keeping a close eye on him in case he tried anything underhand. 'I am unarmed. What could I possibly do?'

  'Better safe than sorry... How are those doors coming along Max?'

  There was no reply. 'Max?' he ventured again.

  'Oh look Herr Beasley. It would appear the tables have turned in my favour once more.’

  Seb did as he was instructed and saw his friend knelt down in the middle of the room. A Cuban soldier pressing his pistol to the back of Max's head.

  'What...?'

  'I did not see him Seb. I am sorry.’

  'I should have killed you when I had the chance!' his tirade was directed purely at Hackbeil.

  'Yes. You should have Samuel. To deliberate is a weakness and weaknesses cannot go unpunished. Put down your gun.’

  'Do not surrender your...'

  A solitary shot pierced the silence and deflated a part of Seb somewhere deep inside. For a moment he thought he had actually felt something. An emotion, pain, anguish, whatever it was it had registered with him briefly. His gun fell to the floor and Hackbeil kicked it away.

  'You bastard! This was not his fight.’

  'Then what was he doing here? Sightseeing?' he exclaimed with an evil laugh. 'You brought him here, so it is your conscience his death must play on.’

  'And what about your conscience Herman? Does the murder of Caitlin still haunt you at night?'

  A look of amusement played across the German's face. How Seb longed to remove it.

  'All these years you have believed that an unfortunate accident was in fact my fault? Hah! You have suffered needlessly Samuel. I no more killed Caitlin than you did.’

  'So I am to blame for that as well? I don't think so...'

  'Are you sure about that?' he enquired playfully as he encircled Seb. 'Was it not knowing you that dragged the poor girl into this mess?'

  For a moment he almost let him in.

  'You won't get inside my head. You are to blame and I'll make sure you suffer for your crimes.’

  'That is where you are wrong! I am not a criminal Herr Beasley. I am the forefather of a new generation. A race of superior soldiers...'

  Slowly Hackbeil walked towards the remaining Cuban soldier and the lifeless body of Max. 'You see Samuel, I am not just a man anymore. I am a god!'

  'You are insane!'

  'Genius and insanity do cross paths occasionally so I will allow you this attempted insult. Perhaps a demonstration will change your mind?'

  Having reached the soldier Hackbeil spoke softly into his ear. Without hesitation the cap wearing disciple placed the pistol to his temple and pulled the trigger.

  'I can see that you are shocked, but we have been making great strides. It is amazing what one can achieve when in exile.’

  'Let me guess. You can control them, but there are still unwanted side effects.’

  'Ja! I knew you would understand my predicament. Come Samuel, take a closer look at my first real success.’

  Hackbeil gestured for him to come forward.

  'What am I looking at exactly?'

  'An old friend... Or should that be enemy?' he chortled. Seb looked closer. The hat had now fallen from the dead soldier's head. It couldn't be, surely. The blood spattered face staring up at him did look familiar. It was scarred, drawn and appropriately tanned, but he knew this man.

  'Ed,' he exhaled slowly.

  'Ja! Herr Irwin. Alas he has served his purpose, but has proved very loyal. He escorted me on my journey from the Fatherland and paved the way for many more like him.’

  Seb felt sick. He was not about to lie, he despised Ed and enjoyed living in the knowledge that the Irishman had died a painful death at the hands of Herman and his henchmen, but this was something else.

  'Why...?'

  'A healthy physical specimen -- educated, but weak of mind. He was resilient at first, but our methods soon broke him down.’

  'I meant why him?'

  'Because you were kind enough to deliver him to me in Paris. Who better to act as my private security against the most dangerous, unpublicised weapon of the war?'

  'Meaning me?'

  'You are too modest Herr Beasley, but I like that quality in a man.’

  Herman ushered Seb away from the two corpses.

  Seb knew that the conversation would come around to this particular line of enquiry eventually.

  'You want me to be your lab rat?'

  'No, no! Nothing as demeaning as that. I would make you a partner, credit you in any discoveries we make.’

  'Why would you do that?' he asked, genuinely confused by such an act of misguided generosity.

  'Consider it compensation for several years of misplaced pain... I am not a monster Samuel, I am a businessman with a vision.’

  'It seems that all you want to do is make a fortune from the suffering of others.’

  This must have hit a nerve with Hackbeil, as his response was delivered with an air of hostility.

  'You are so quick to judge! Always the same... When the Führer had the foresight and intelligence to try and rid the world of Jews he was criticised. And why? Think of a world without them... A professor of history could only confirm their greed and bloodlust as a race.’

  'Say -- for the sake of this debate -- that I can appreciate your point of view...'

  'Excellent! Now p
icture a world where traditional soldiers are not needed.’

  Herman had now made his way back and was sitting on the edge of one of the beds. It wasn't clear just how much he trusted his guest, but it couldn't have been enough, as his gun was still trained on Seb.

  'Proxy battles?'

  'Wunderbar! What a fantastic term... We shall use that when the project is complete.’

  'And Castro is in full support of your research?' Seb probed.

  'Ja. Absolutely. He and his Russian associates. I cannot say I am completely comfortable with the idea of working hand und hand with those filthy dogs, but their money is extremely useful.’

  'He who controls the technology...'

  He was wavering slightly. The gun was now only lightly held in his hand and not particularly pointing at Seb.

  'Correct. We could always double cross the Russians at a later date. Give them some faulty prototypes,' his sentence trailing off into a hysterical bout of laughter.

  'And the gas chamber?'

  Herman looked up from his own spell of amusement before speaking.

  'What about it?'

  'Why is it here? If your vision is to save lives, then why have it?'

  'Oh that... It is a little embarrassing.’

  'Go on. I am curious.’

  'Very well, but only because it is you. Not every experiment was a success. We made many... Mistakes on the way to perfection.’

  Seb shook his head.

  'I see...'

  'Some of the subjects have been -- shall we say -- less than successful. The gas provides a quick and effective way to end the suffering. I also enjoy watching them expire.’

  An awkward silence befell the room before Seb broached another subject.

  'I wouldn't have thought Cubans were high on your list of genetic preference.’

  'They are not, but beggars cannot be choosers Samuel. Take a seat, please.’

  With that Herman pointed his gun towards the chair opposite the bed on which he sat.

  'I prefer to stand.’

  'Sit! I insist.’

  Seb descended into the chair.

  'We will require samples.’

  'From me?'

  'Of course. You are a fully functioning example of the future. Quite exciting when you think about it. Just think where we would be now if I could have delivered you to the Führer all those years ago!'

  'I'd be dead and the Nazis would have a foothold on every continent.’

  Herman shook his head.

  'Nein Herr Beasley. You would be far too important an asset to kill. I would not allow such a barbaric act.’

  'Thank you,' Seb proclaimed with the slightest undertone of sarcasm.

  'You are most welcome! I ensure you that the process will be as painless as possible. In fact, the device has most likely become unstable by now.’

  'Unstable?'

  'You have been feeling unwell recently? Perhaps experiencing side effects ja?'

  Seb thought for a moment. Could that be what the memory lapses were about?

  'Now that you mention it...'

  'I suspected this might be the case. At the very least we could investigate the problem.’

  'Am I in danger?'

  'If the device is allowed to mutate further, the results are... unpredictable.’

  A few seconds is not a lot of time to make a life changing decision, but he knew what had to be done. An overwhelming sense of exhaustion had been with him for a long time now. He was tired. Not just of this conversation, but of everything. All the years spent fighting had taken their toll and for what?

  'Have you ever heard of a little thing called the power of suggestion Herman?'

  The former officer obviously had, but his expression carried overtones of confusion.

  'Ja, but I do not see how that is relevant...' Seb smiled, 'Oh, it's relevant.’

  Slowly he pushed himself up from the chair in which he sat.

  'I did not say that you could stand.’

  'That's right. You didn't, but I think I will anyway,' Seb proclaimed defiantly.

  'Sit down!'

  'Make me.’

  What happened next was interesting, as the German appeared torn between two courses of action. He obviously wanted to restrain his captive, but appeared to be concerned about any damage he may cause in the process.

  'Samuel, please sit down. I do not want to hurt you.’

  It was almost a plea.

  'Am I too valuable?'

  'Do not push me. No-one is untouchable.’

  'Perhaps you're right... My father thought he was invincible and look what happened to him.’

  Hackbeil paused for thought as Seb walked slowly away from the chair. He followed, his gun raised once again.

  'A tragic accident I'm sure.’

  'It is impossible to be certain about things you do not understand.’

  'How dare you insult my intelligence! I think perhaps the device has mutated further than we first imagined. Sit down now and I will still consider helping you...'

  Seb laughed, 'All you have ever done is help yourself. Not like me...' He paused in front of the gas chamber before delivering a killer blow. 'There is no device Herman.’

  Hackbeil blinked. He smiled.

  'Very good Herr Beasley. You are a comedian.’

  'There's nothing funny about murder.’

  'What murder?'

  'Whose murder...'

  Suddenly Hackbeil was on his feet and moving towards Seb.

  'No more games! You will tell me everything.’

  'I intend to... How much do you already know? I would hate to waste time covering old ground and although you alluded to something all those years ago in Russia, you never actually said the words.’

  'It is difficult when you are being shelled at the same time... I know why you were really in Ireland if that is what you mean.’

  'How clever of you' he said sarcastically, 'Go on...'

  The two men were now within touching distance. Seb could smell his adversary's sickly scent. A mix of obnoxious cologne and sweat.

  'You killed those men.’

  'Indeed I did, but every reaction has an initial action. The question is why did I kill them?'