“She is a strange one.” The Brit commented to Bauer as he closed the ludicrously heavy pack that would be a great effort to even lift let alone carry.
“Indeed. I would not become too attached, she serves only one master.” Hawkins frowned at Bauer's cryptic message.
“Do you mean she's married?” The Brit asked foolishly. Bauer shook his head knowingly.
“She does not need looking after; clearly she can take care of herself. Just do not be distracted by her needs, you know what lay ahead for us, hmm?”
Bauer put his hand upon Hawkins' shoulder. The young man knew what he was being asked, it was to take responsibility and rise to the occasion. There was something historic about the opportunity that presented itself here and it did not escape the Yorkshire man. He was in a position to make a difference. From his formative years in the Marines, that was all that he ever wanted. With the advent of war and the disgraceful loss of life on all sides, it seemed almost impossible to feel as if his efforts were in aid of something great and good. After months of fighting, the insignificance of his role seemed to grow by the day and his life less important than it ought to be. By taking action now, he was perhaps one of the very few that remained with a shot at ending the War that was about to be renewed, but with a far more insidious and lethal enemy than ever before.
“I'm ready to do whatever's necessary to kill off these bastards.” Hawkins said with fortitude. Bauer smiled and nodded his head in great appreciation.
“I now know why the Reich could not defeat the Great British lion-hearts.”
Hawkins felt proud to be associated with his nation in such glowing terms. Bauer reminded Hawkins that the Germans were not all fascists; it gave him great faith in humanity after many years of dispirited pessimism.
*
Carefully treading their way down a thickly foliaged descent, Hawkins carrying the MG42 and heavy ammo box followed Bauer with his keenly presented assault rifle. Genevieve followed at the rear wielding the MP44 as if it were a babe in arms, clutching it tight to her bosom. The dense greenery led to the rear of a tall town house which had survived unscathed in the carnage. Mounting a high wooden fence, the three worked in silence to aid each other's progress. Dropping into a trimmed garden where the lawn was green and lush, it seemed to Hawkins as if the occupants of this dwelling were extremely house proud. Hugging the outer wall, Bauer snooped around the corner to peer into the rear window. Inside the kitchen, it was gloomy and there was no one to be seen. The German motioned to Hawkins that he was going to try the rear door and much to their mutual surprise, the brass knob turned and the wooden door creaked open.
The house was built upon two levels and although the wooden floorboards made moving about silently impossible, a lengthy scout around the nicely wallpapered home revealed that the occupants were not present. From the front of the property, there was a clear view out to the street where similar buildings stood all as quiet as their own although many had lost their roofs through persistent shelling. If it was the intention of the group to hold up for the rest of the day, it seemed a perfect environment to rest and eat without too much interference. The large bed with its pristine white sheets also asked a few questions of the soldiers as they perused their new location.
“What do you think, Hans? Just like a five star hotel in Torquay!” Hawkins spoke quietly as they both peered into the pretty bedroom.
“I am sure it is. As much as it entices, we must venture forward.” Bauer remained focussed.
“I know. But maybe if we get in trouble, we can fall back here hey?” Hawkins hoped out loud bringing a reassuring smile for the Colonel.
The two soldiers returned to downstairs to find Genevieve holding the receiver of a telephone, she was tapping furiously at its buttons.
“It appears that it has been cut off.” She complained once again straining to hear something from the device.
“Good try though.” Hawkins added as Genevieve stroppily dropped the heavy Bakelite receiver back down with a clunk.
“A clear offensive strategy. Deny your opponents communication to summon reinforcements.” Bauer added his senior wisdom evident once more.
“If we could find a radio then we could at least determine where our forces lie or even negotiate.” Hawkins suggested rather an obvious course of action.
“A good call but unfortunately one of the first things that happened yesterday morning was loss of radio communications. We can only assume that this was not a natural event.” Bauer explained why his cause had been most desperate.
“As for negotiation, this is what these are for.” Genevieve interrupted and hoisted her weapon and waved it about aggressively.
“Where in Caen is your mother's house?” Hawkins asked with more than a little impatience. It seemed that Genevieve had nothing good to say to him since the previous night, he wondered what he could have done to anger her so. Genevieve paced around and slumped down upon a soft green chair.
“Does it even matter?” She barked. “Have you not seen the town as I have, do you not hear the silence of its people.”
Hawkins looked over to Bauer who shrugged his shoulders.
“You've given up on her then?” Hawkins prodded her with his words like a sharp stick to a viper.
“Even if she is alive, the only way to stop the slaughter is to strike at the heart of the Nazi creations before it is too late. The Colonel is right; we must hurt them now before it is too late.”
Hawkins was about to speak when suddenly his heart raced. A shadowy figure was peering in through the living room window, masking their eyes from the glare of the sky. Bauer hoisted his gun and the figure darted away with fright. Hawkins raced to the window and traced the movements of the small spy across the road into one of the damaged houses opposite.
“What was it?” Bauer asked, clearly not getting a good enough look to be sure.
“A boy, perhaps thirteen or fourteen. He's run across the road into the house with the white door.”
“I see there are still people here in Caen.” Bauer remarked, his comment clearly aimed at Genevieve who sneered at him in return. Hawkins remained focused upon the house opposite and was intrigued to see the curtains part a few moments after the door was hastily opened and closed.
“We have been noted; at least we can assume that anything that lives might be on our side.” Hawkins said hopefully.
“Do not assume anything, John. The quickest way to lose your life in war is to put your faith in a stranger.” Bauer remarked with a cautious intent. Genevieve stood, raised an eyebrow at the tall blonde man and peered out through the window moving next to Hawkins.
“...or in your enemy.” She whispered as if feeling the need to have the last word in the conversation. Hawkins hummed as if not really taking it all in.
“When your allies are so thin in number, I guess you just have to run with what you've got.” He murmured remaining transfixed on the street. “I think we should go and investigate. If there are people there, maybe they can give us some information.”
“Absolutely.” Genevieve piped up perkily as she readied herself to move on. “Come on, old man.” She said in passing to the Colonel who remained passive as always.
“You've really stirred her up.” Hawkins commented after Genevieve paced out of the room. Bauer laughed and once again shrugged his shoulders.
“At least when she is angry she is a good shot. I'll try to keep her on the boil.” The German said quietly as he once again prepared to move on.
CHAPTER 20
Striding boldly across the road towards the house with the white door, Hawkins whispered over to Bauer.
“What's the strategy?”
Bauer looked over to his British friend and just raised his eyebrows. It was apparent that there was none but progress could not be made without bold moves.
Standing outside the house, Bauer tapped the door gently whilst keeping vigilant in the deserted street where there was a single black car parked up. He did n
ot have to wait long for an answer and the door was quickly opened and a waved hand ushered them inside. Hawkins bundled through into the dusty hallway and was surprised to see a small gathering of people watching him with their inquisitive eyes and training their guns equally as keenly. The door was closed silently and their host appeared to be a small rotund gent with spectacles and a brown woolly cardigan.
“An interesting collection of people...only in a surrealistic nightmare could this be the norm. However, I am getting used to it.” He stammered in English although he spoke with a French accent.
“Thank you for the shelter.” Bauer spoke slowly and with authority. He could not take his eyes from half a dozen or so young men who surrounded them with weapons of all origins drawn at the ready.
“I assure you, we are of no threat to you.” The German reiterated his commitment to non-violence.
“Absolutely.” Hawkins added feeling a little claustrophobic by his surroundings.
“Yet you are well armed. Perhaps when you relinquish your arms we can be more...comfortable in each other's presence.” The French man negotiated nervously.
“We give up our weapons to no one.” Genevieve stamped her opinion on the conversation for all to hear.
“My, what a cosmopolitan group of individuals you are!” The French man remarked, shuffling about in amusement. Bauer held up his hand in a gesture of calm.
“We are all as one, we share the same enemy. Let us talk without fear.” Bauer was also a superb negotiator. The short, fat French man looked over to the teenage boy who had spied their presence and nodded an acknowledgement. Of the five or six young men who wielded their weapons with a tell tale innocence, there was not one who appeared confident enough to use their gun in anger. Bauer was quick to observe this and his confident demeanour soon rubbed off on Hawkins who dropped his guard a little.
“Is there somewhere we can sit?” Hawkins asked the weight of his immense pack and large gun began to weigh heavily upon his shoulders.
“Of course, where are my manners?” The French man threw his hands into the air and waved the cautious threesome into an adjacent room which had seen better days. A living room devoid of furniture had been converted into a temporary hostel. Hawkins wondered why, when there were better places to find shelter, these people were persisting with this place.
“I am sorry if the house is not presentable to guests, you see, once the monsters have visited one home, they move to the next. We guessed that as they have already made their presence known in this house, it would be safer for the moment.” The host said frankly, clearing up some of the musing as the guests dropped their heavy loads and lowered themselves upon thin mattresses covered with inadequate, thin and quite filthy sheets.
“And did the occupants survive this encounter?” Bauer asked inquisitively.
“Regretfully not.” The host replied, his face showing some of the strains of the conflict.
“Excuse me; my name is Leballieur, Jean-Paul. I recognise you but I am poor with remembering names.” Leballieur remarked at Bauer who raised his eyebrows with intrigue.
“Hans Bauer.”
“Yes! That is why I remember now. Mon Dieu, the man himself.” Leballieur looked rather star-struck as his minions pottered around trying to look busy but totally intrigued in their visitors.
“It seems that your reputation precedes you, Bauer.” Genevieve stated with caution.
“I have been to Caen on occasions, although I fail to understand from where you would know me?” Bauer did not seem happy at being devoid of the facts and Hawkins was fascinated by his German friends' limited fame.
“Well, if I said that I was 'employed' by the Germans in the role of a biochemical engineer then that might give you some clue.” Leballieur certainly fitted the bill of a scientist, quite brilliant but zany too.
“Incredible, then it might be a stroke of quite amazing fortune that we've bumped into you then?” Hawkins was enthused by the possibility of understanding more about the 'cold soldiers'.
“I do not count myself as fortunate to be here at this time.” Leballieur lamented. “It is our plan to wait till darkness and escape this town. However, we are not quite sure in which direction to travel. You are from Carentan, is it safe in Carentan?” Leballieur had his fill of this place and it showed in the immediacy of his will to plot his escape. Bauer's plan was quite the opposite.
“If you are aware of the operation, then you can provide us with valuable information. I think the time for secrecy and information protection is over. It is clear that you know who I am and my role in this mess, can I assume that you had some kind of access to the bunker?” Bauer did not beat around the bush and with every word, Hawkins grew more confused.
“What bunker is this Hans?” He asked, feeling a little left out in the cold. Leballieur looked to Bauer who had seen fit to keep this information away from the Brit.
“There is here, in Caen a secure underground installation that was being used for scientific research...another reason why Caen was chosen to become the home of the Kalter Soldaten. After I was sent to Russia, I bargained my way back to a post in Carentan so that I could monitor the experiments from a distance, fearing that something like this might happen.”
“Well you certainly kept that schtum.” Hawkins said looking over to Genevieve whose face was thunderously angular.
“I am still an officer in the Wehrmacht, I do not go around telling British Commando's the location of our secret bases.” Bauer remarked, his tone deliberate. Hawkins nodded; he understood why he had not shared the information but was eager to know more about this research installation.
“Listen carefully, Jean-Paul, I intend to enter this bunker and eliminate the threat from its source. To do this, I will need every possible aid. Maps, the location of security checkpoints, weapons caches, restricted areas...”
Leballieur nodded eagerly.
“Yes, yes, I can provide some of this, it is a place etched in my memory and somewhere I never wish to return to for as long as I live.”
“What was it you did there?” Hawkins asked as Leballieur instructed a young man to fetch refreshments.
“As little as possible! Ha!” Leballieur quipped but then sheepishly looked over to his German oppressor who smiled in acknowledgement.
“Traitor.” Genevieve whispered whilst shaking her head. “Whilst brave men and women died opposing the subjugation at every turn, men like you, weak and eager to obey offered your services at the drop of a hat.” Hawkins and Bauer were both taken aback by the vitriol of their companion. Leballieur was not riled by her taunts.
“Oh, my dear. How simple life must be to you. Black or white and not a shade between. There were hundreds of us, pursued and captured for our academic specialities. Mine was cryochemistry, the science of preserving organic tissues. As I speak, my family are dwelling in a prison camp somewhere in Berlin. Their life depends on my co-operation; it is my duty to ensure that they survive this pitiful war. Until yesterday, I had high hopes that one day we would be reunited. Now I fear for their safety not from the Germans but from their sickening creations who run rampant slaughtering all those who dare breathe the air.”
“So who are these people?” Hawkins jumped in keen to know why the small gathering of young men followed him with such esteem.
“Ah, these are some of the children of my colleague Pascal Blanc who unfortunately did not escape the bunker as I did. Together with a couple of young men who I discovered in the basement of a neighbouring house. I have collected quite a little army here.” Leballieur smiled at his protégés with pride. “I suspect that there are many who remain in Caen but seek to keep themselves well concealed.”
“Running away will not solve anything; we need to make a stand here and now.” Hawkins spoke defiantly causing Leballieur to roll his eyes.
“We are not soldiers. We will leave the fighting to you.” The French man had seen enough terror.
“Then we will all be slaughtered by the
se things. They are weak now; we must act before they grow ambitious.” Bauer stepped in.
“Oh, I'm afraid it might be too late for that already.” Leballieur said with a sour tone.
CHAPTER 21
Jean-Paul Leballieur pushed his spectacles up his nose and smoothed his chin with his hand as he began to recount his recent past.
“Of course, I do not know how much of this you already know.” He said looking at Bauer. “You are aware of the origins of the machine. I had already been 'employed' by the time it had been excavated and transported here piece by piece and under the most strenuous security. Our briefing was ridiculously bereft of detail, I remember sitting in a large room with some of the most eminent men and women in their field wondering what could possibly have brought us there. It was clear that there had been no structure to this research; it was if the Germans had found a lollipop and did not know whether to suck on it or use it as a xylophone beater! We were presented with hardware that was almost incomprehensible, materials that were undefined; it was like asking a child to reconstruct a motor car from its individual parts. Among the brilliant minds that were gathered, a psychologist named Kurt Von Hummel was present from the start. When it became clear that the machine when utilised correctly was an aid to 'mind control', it was he who took the lead with great enthusiasm. Von Hummel was not one of us, that much was immediately apparent. He was a Nazi with close affiliations with high ranking party members and I hear good friends with Goebbels himself. I personally found him to be very driven, clearly an intellect but ambitious beyond the boundaries of likeability. The initial experiments were failures as we expected. We did not know if this was due to the dismantling of the machine and reconstruction or whether we simply did not understand how it operated. We were offered the transcripts of interviews recorded during your 'debriefing', Colonel, after the Antarctic expedition. I remember many of your answers word for word; they haunted me and kept me awake at night. I remember discussing your experiences with my colleagues and touching on some of the moral implications of what it was we were striving to create. It was not clear to us at first that this was to be used as some kind of weapon on such a grand scale. We imagined its use in espionage, controlling a senior British or American soldier perhaps or even a politician. For the first few days, I had wondered why I was even present, my skills seemed surplus to requirements but then as the days passed, it became clear that the subjects of these experiments would involve cadavers, dead animals at first and then human. From your testimony, Colonel, it was all too apparent that the user of this device, once connected with another life force was bonded as one, sharing the same feelings of emotion and pain. By using the bodies of the dead, the Germans hoped to reduce this psychological and physical effect and allow a more comfortable experience for the operator. That is where my talents were required, of course. I was tasked with using freezing techniques to preserve freshly deceased subjects and reduce tissue damage so that further along the line, these people could be resurrected as automatons under the influence of the German war machine. Oh, of course there were other problems such as sustainability and regulation of bodily functions. You see the body can 'live' without the need of an active brain as long as the correct impulses of electricity are sent to the right place at the right time. To a mere mortal, this control is not conceivable; it simply could not be understood or replicated. This is why I can only assume that those who created this machine were no mortal men. It has perhaps restored my faith in the supernatural although what god would provide such a tool for damnation?” Leballieur had accumulated a little white spittle at the corner of his mouth, he was a fascinating character and all were enthralled by his story.
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