Sam Harris Adventure Box Set

by P J Skinner

  ‘What concept?’

  ‘It’s supposed to be like a real German village, with authentic food and housing, and authentic villagers. I don’t think there are many mestizos in Germany.’

  ‘You’re probably right.’

  Segundo realised that he would stick out like a sore thumb if he got off the bus at San Blas. He bought a ticket and sat at the front so that he could talk to the driver.

  ‘Can you tell me how far you go?’

  ‘I go to the other side of San Blas where the road ends, and then I come back through the town again on my way out.’

  ‘Is there a forest there? And a round hill?’

  ‘Yes, that’s the place. How do you know?’

  ‘Oh, my cousin is cutting some wood out there. He asked me to meet him.’

  ‘I’d be careful if I were you. I often see some of those German bastards out there with guns. What they are shooting? Sheep?’

  ‘You know the Germans. They’re like Americans. They want to kill anything that moves.’

  They both laughed.

  No one else arrived to catch the bus and soon they were trundling along the narrow road between the high peat banking on either side. Several startled rabbits ran ahead of the bus darting to-and-fro until they could shoot off into an opening. Weak sunshine leaked through the dark clouds as the bus arrived at San Blas. The streets were empty but Segundo crouched down in the sunken entrance steps of the vehicle so as to be invisible from the pavement. The driver raised an eyebrow and wagged his finger.

  ‘Are you poaching?’

  ‘You won’t tell?’

  ‘Of course not. Anyone who steals from that lot has my blessing.’

  They continued through town and out the other side. The forest loomed into view, black and threatening, the damp trees with their dripping branches cutting out the light. The road stopped abruptly at the edge of the trees, seemingly lacking the courage to continue. The bus driver opened the door and dropped Segundo at the end of the road.

  ‘Are you sure this is the right place? It seems spooky to me.’

  ‘This is it. Thanks a lot.’

  The bus driver turned back to San Blas, waving in his mirror at Segundo until he was out of sight. There were several vehicles parked under the trees at the side of the road but no sign of any occupants. Segundo could not see any reason for them to be there so he slipped into the woods and found a hollow from which he could watch the cars and the hill. Taking a piece of plastic out of his pocket, he placed it flat on the earth and lay on top of it. Despite the covering, it was freezing and he shivered in an exaggerated manner to warm himself up. Covering himself with leaves, he settled down to wait.

  ***

  Sam woke up with sore breasts. They felt hot and swollen and uncomfortable. She assumed that it was a symptom of her now unwanted pregnancy. No doubt she would start vomiting any day now. Her mood certainly couldn’t get any worse although blaming it on her pregnancy seemed a little naïve. The irony of the situation she was in made her almost hysterical. The Nazis were planning on implanting her with an unwanted baby, when she was already carrying one. How had this happened? Contraception had always been a priority for her. She couldn’t understand why she was so different to the other women she knew. Even Gloria, the adventurer, the non-conformist, was desperate for the child she couldn’t have. Sam couldn’t understand why having a baby was so alien to her, when most women of her age were like ticking time bombs. Now she would be the mother of Hitler? There was a satirical show in there somewhere. She had a feeling that on another occasion Alfredo would have enjoyed the joke but by the look of him, now was not the time.

  The door rattled and Boris Klein entered with Kurt Becker. Sam stepped backwards and Alfredo put a protective arm around her shoulder.

  ‘We need a blood sample,’ said Becker.

  ‘You must be joking,’ said Sam.

  ‘We can do this the hard way or the easy way,’ said Klein.

  Sam considered her options. Segundo must be on his way by now. If she could stall them for a day, there was the chance of a rescue. There was no point in getting injured. She might need to run away.

  ‘Okay,’ she said, ‘don’t take too much. I need it.’

  She rolled up her sleeve. Klein grabbed her roughly at the same time brushing his hand over her breast. She knew it was deliberate and a cold fear swept up her back.

  ‘Don’t touch me,’ she hissed, ‘or you’ll regret it.’

  ‘Ha, the British bitch has spunk at least,’ he said.

  ‘Stop messing around, Boris. Sit down while I take the sample.’ Kurt Becker pushed Boris back towards the door. Sam calmed down and sat on the bed, proffering her arm. Alfredo, who had been silent, sat down beside her and held her hand.

  ‘Hang in there. You’re not alone.’

  ‘You soon will be,’ said Boris, ‘alone and on your way to Argentina. They’ll never find you there.’

  ‘Shut up!’ said Becker, and he pushed Boris out into the passageway, his irritation showing. He shut the door behind him so Sam and Alfredo couldn’t hear what he was saying. ‘Why don’t you go into town and check with the hotel for any news?’ he told him. ‘We need to do the procedure as soon as possible and get out of here before our options reduce.’

  ‘What about Dr Vargas?’

  ‘We’ll leave him here. You can kill him tomorrow. He keeps Sam calm which is vital right now.

  ‘Great. I can’t wait to rid us of that superior bastard.’

  ‘And for God’s sake, stop baiting Sam. She doesn’t look defenceless to me. I don’t see any fear in those eyes, only fury. I’d watch your balls if I were you.’

  ***

  Segundo was cold to the bone after several hours spent hiding in his hollow in the woods. His feet felt like concrete bricks. Suddenly he heard what sounded like a lock being opened. He watched in amazement as a door opened in the grass on the side of the hill. It was hard to see the outline in broad daylight, even when he knew it was there. A large man with grey hair and a goatee stepped outside, shielding his eyes. He was followed by a man wearing an old uniform, which looked like it had seen better days, who was carrying a pistol. They walked over to a pickup truck talking in loud voices. Segundo still struggled to hear what they were saying.

  ‘… tomorrow I think. Be ready to leave then.’

  ‘Okay Mr Klein. Shall I come with you?’

  ‘No, stay here, Dr Becker may need you.’

  The bearded man got into the pickup and drove off, and the guard wandered back inside. Segundo waited until he had shut the door, and then he crept through the trees until he could see the doorway better. A plan was forming in his head but he needed confirmation that Sam and Alfredo were being held in the hill. He circled around behind it and discovered a large tank of diesel hidden under the cover of some leafy bushes. As he got closer to it, he could hear the chugging of a large generator, which was dug into the hillside for soundproofing.

  The only other outward sign of its existence was the exhaust pumping smoke into the air. He crept closer and crawled up to the top of the hill where he found several shafts dug vertically into the hill. These were lined with mirrors. He lay on his stomach and tried to put his head at the correct angle to see down into the holes. A shadow moved across his vision. Alfredo! He had found them. Sam had been right.

  Grudgingly he gave her credit for spotting the hill on the aerial photographs. He would not have known where to start. Having found them, he would have liked to alert them, but he was worried that someone else might hear him. He continued to reconnoitre the hill, sliding through the grass like a python. Down another of the holes, he could see a laboratory with an old man fiddling with some test tubes. He couldn’t believe his luck. The Nazi headquarters was staffed by two old men and a guard who spent most of the time asleep. He decided to pick them off one by one and crept back down to his hiding place.

  ***

  Boris Klein
drove into town with his usual disregard for safety, scattering chickens and sending up curtains of muddy water from the puddles lining the road. He got to Schmidt’s hotel and put his pickup in the carpark. Coming through the back door in the dining room, he saluted the picture of the Führer that had been put back up over the fireplace. Fritz Schmidt was reading a scurrilous local newspaper and admiring the scantily clad women that adorned its pages. Boris looked over his shoulder and sniffed.

  ‘You can’t fancy those Indians?’ he said, ‘you’ve definitely been here too long.’

  ‘I guess. A woman’s a woman as far as I’m concerned.’

  ‘As long as you aren’t planning on breeding with them. I’m truly sorry about your nephew, by the way. He was a brave man and he died for the Fatherland. How is your brother coping?’

  Schmidt grunted. ‘How do you think? What do you want anyway? How are things with Dr Becker?’

  ‘We’ve had a little local difficulty but it’s been sorted out.’ Klein had no intention of telling the town’s biggest gossip what was happening. ‘Becker and I will take the project to Argentina to prevent further problems.’

  ‘That sounds serious.’

  The telephone rang. Both men stared at it without answering but it didn’t stop. Schmidt shrugged and grabbed it.

  ‘Yes, San Blas Hotel at your service. Yes, he’s here now as a matter of fact. Please hold.’

  He put his hand over the receiver. ‘And talking of Indians, it’s Kleber.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Kleber, the Minister’s assistant.’

  ‘Oh, him.’ Klein grabbed the receiver and shoved it to his ear. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Mr Klein, it’s Kleber.’ His voice sounded funny, like it was breaking. It was an octave higher with emotion.

  ‘Yes boy, what’s up?’

  ‘It’s Minister Ponce, he’s had a stroke.’

  ‘Christ, is he going to be okay?’

  ‘They don’t have the prognosis yet. He was taken to hospital this morning.’

  ‘That’s terrible news. I need you to wait at the hospital and keep us updated. Can you ring again and leave a message here at the hotel when you find out how he is?’

  ‘Yes, but that’s not all. I think it was the other news that gave him the stroke.’ He hesitated. Klein could hear him fidgeting.

  ‘What other news? Get on with it. What could be worse?’

  ‘Hernan Sanchez visited Minister Ponce this morning and gave him a copy of a news report that Reuters has sent to the agencies in Sierramar. The Miami Herald has done a lead article about the presence of a Nazi group in the country. It mentions you, and Dr Becker. It even mentions San Blas. Every newspaper will have it on the front-page tomorrow morning.’

  Klein went white with fury, alarming Schmidt who stepped back behind the counter.

  ‘What a fucking train wreck! How did they get this information?’

  Kleber stuttered uncontrollably.

  ‘I have the press release from Reuters right here. It says that the report is based on the research of Dr Ramon Vega and there is a photograph of him. He is in Miami promoting it.’

  ‘I thought that bastard died in the fire. You told me the police found two bodies.’

  ‘They did, Mr Klein, but Dr Vega wasn’t one of them. It says here that he escaped the fire and that it was a case of mistaken identity.’

  ‘Jesus! You idiot. We are completely fucked.’ He dropped the receiver as if it were a poisonous spider. It was happening too fast. They had to get out of there before the news spread any further.

  ‘Are you feeling okay, Boris?’ asked Schmidt, ‘you have gone ashen.’

  ‘We have to go,’ he said. ‘We need to leave for Argentina. We are no longer safe here. Tell your brother, and the others. Pack up and leave tonight or it will be too late.’

  ***

  Back at the laboratory, Kurt Becker was feeling a little more hopeful. He had tested Sam’s blood and been thrilled to find that Sam’s hormone levels indicated that she was ovulating. It couldn’t have been the injection that she had received because it hadn’t had time to take effect yet. Her womb would be receptive to their implant. It had to be a lucky coincidence, and they needed one. Time was closing in and he had to implant the eggs that evening to be confident they had time to settle on the womb and start to embed before they left for Argentina.

  The journey would not be easy. They would have to keep her comatose to prevent her trying to escape. He had seen the fire in her eyes when Boris had touched her breast. She was a typical British person. They seemed so meek and reserved but God help you if you provoked them to a fight. He had been amazed at their ability to defeat the Luftwaffe despite the overwhelming odds against them. Until they realised that British scientists had developed radar, there was total incomprehension in the German ranks about how the British air force was always in the right place at the right time to shoot down their bombers. And how on earth had Sam found them in San Blas? Alfredo had never mentioned that anyone else knew where they were going and he never appeared to think that he might be rescued. His amazement when Sam turned up was not faked.

  It was time to check on the eggs. It would be touch and go to get them implanted in time even if they were ready. He felt a deep resentment that his years of research were for nothing and that he had been forced into a single throw of the dice. No one appreciated the fine line between success and failure like he did. Mostly because he had been somewhat economical with the truth. He had exaggerated his successes with the cloning of sheep, hoping that his results would catch up with the reports before anyone noticed. Expectations were so high. The original team were getting old and their offspring were not as keen on the idea of a Fourth Reich, being more interested in pop music and sex. Many of the younger generation had drifted away from San Blas to go to university in Calderon and they had not come back. Only less intelligent young men like Hans, with no interest in education, got a thrill from the stories about the power and superiority of the Nazis.

  ‘If we’re so superior, how come we got beaten by the inferior races?’ said one of Kurt’s daughters, earning herself a slap.

  They would learn. When they saw Hitler in his prime again, they would understand and come back to the fold.

  To distract himself, he took the eggs that he had manufactured the day before out of the cabinet, carefully removing the electric wires which were supplying a light current through the dish where they were stored. Finding a concave slide in the same cabinet, he dropped some clean saline into the depression on the glass. Then he squeezed carefully on the bulb of a pipette and sucked one of the eggs from the solution. He transferred it into the depression, carefully expelling it into the saline pool. Sliding a thin glass protective cap over it, he pushed it under the microscope. He held his breath and put his eye to the lens.

  ***

  Sam rubbed her arm ruefully. ‘Why do you think they needed the blood?’

  ‘It must be something to do with hormones,’ said Alfredo.

  ‘Can they tell from the results that I'm already pregnant?’

  ‘I don’t know. You certainly don’t look pregnant. Your stomach is completely flat.’

  ‘It’s probably too early to show. I don’t feel pregnant. I haven’t been sick or developed a craving for pickles yet.’

  ‘I’m so sorry about this. It’s my fault. I should’ve guessed Saul wasn't telling me the truth.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. How is this your fault? Anyway, this cloning business was a complete surprise. He was looking for revenge for his family. There was no way of guessing what they had planned.’

  ‘But he had a gun. I saw it and I still didn’t realise the danger we were in.’

  ‘Jesus, Alfredo, ninety-nine percent of the male population of Sierramar have a gun. They’re not planning to take over the world, are they?’

  ‘No, I guess not, but I wasn’t expecting you to get involved.’

  ‘Th
at was my choice. We’ll be fine. Hang in there. Segundo will be on his way by now.’

  The sound of a horn being blown drifted down the shaft.

  ‘Hey! Did you hear that? There’s something happening outside.’

  ‘Maybe Segundo is here to rescue us.’

  ‘I hope so, I don’t think we have much longer.’

  ***

  Klein screeched to a halt outside the laboratory and put his hand on the horn of the truck. The sound echoed across the forest.

  In his leaf-covered hollow, Segundo jumped with fright, his heart pounding as the adrenaline flooded his system. He spun around in his hiding place so that he could see the truck. The man with the beard was still inside, banging the dashboard with his fist. Segundo decided to risk moving nearer to try and eavesdrop. Staying flat on the ground, he slithered closer to the edge of the glade and hid behind a large tree. The door in the hillside flew open and Kurt Becker came out gesticulating. He approached the truck and went around to the driver’s side, his face screwed up with frustration.

  ‘For God’s sake, Boris. What the hell is wrong with you? Why don’t you sell tickets?’

  ‘The bastard published his report.’

  ‘Which bastard? Didn’t we burn the report? It was in the backseat pocket of Dr Vargas’ car and it got incinerated when we got rid of the vehicle. Remember?’

  ‘Ramon Vega. He’s alive. Apparently Kleber set fire to Vega’s girlfriend instead of him.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Vega was having an affair. The body in his bed was his girlfriend but they kept it quiet because she was married and Vega had disappeared.’

  ‘But Kleber told us that there was only one copy of the report.’

  ‘Apparently not. Vega has published it in Miami and it will be all over the news here tomorrow. We are screwed.’

  Becker sighed. The tired sigh of a defeated man.

  ‘What do you propose, Boris?’

  ‘You must inseminate the bitch tonight and we’ll make a break for it at dawn. Is that enough time for the procedure to take?’