by Tim Wheat
At that instant, Alexei Chase came barreling through the door the boys had entered earlier. He carried on his shoulders a lifeless form, and the look of desperation on his face spoke volumes, even if he did not. Chase’s heart sunk as his father dumped the body of Bobby Poppen on the ground.
“They shot him. You’ve gotta help.” Alexei’s voice came in waves as the exertion of his run had taken its toll.
Rex spared no time ripping the shirt from his Harvard pal. Blood still pumped from the hole in the front of his chest, and Chase rolled the man over, revealing a large exit wound in the back. Tears welled up in his eyes as he felt for a pulse.
“Bobby. Come on, Bobby.” Hans stirred a bit and Chase spat an order, his tone cold. “George, check out the back like I asked. Angela, take this pistol. If Hans wakes up, shoot him.”
The two obeyed and Chase focused his efforts back on Poppen.
“Come on Bobby. Wake up man.” Chase felt a pulse, but it was weak. He remembered he had a small medical kit in one of his pockets, and removed the bandages. Rex applied pressure to the wound, and the stimulus of the pain caused Poppen to stir. “Bobby. Can you hear me? Bobby.”
“I’m not gonna say I told you so, but I did.” A weak smile crossed Chase’s face as Poppen opened his eyes. “Did we get him? Did we save the world?”
“Yeah, man. We did. See, Hans is lying right over there.”
“Gotta get Hoff, though…” Poppen winced as he coughed, and blood spurted from his mouth. “Don’t let him use my equation for destruction. Don’t let…”
“Shhhh. Don’t worry about all that. We’ve got it under control. We’re gonna get you out of here, and get you to a hospital, and you’ll be just fine.”
“Don’t make me laugh. I’m dying, not turning stupid.” Poppen’s voice was weak, but his smile was not. “We’re in the middle of Germany on a covert operation, and I don’t speak German.”
George entered the room and made his way to their side.
“Hoff’s gone. Another car is parked out back.” His voice was all business. “He looks bad man. We should load him up and see about stealing a plane or something. We could be in France in an hour.”
“Chase.” Poppen reached out, grasping at the air.
“Yeah, Bobby?” Rex took his friend’s hand in his own.
“I can’t see, man.” He blinked his eyes hard a few times before continuing. “I want you to know I love you. You’ve been the best friend I’ve ever had.” Poppen’s breathing became shallow as his eyes held a blank stare. “I wish my mom were here.”
Bright streams of light permeated the darkness as Poppen’s brain flooded his body with endorphins. An absolute feeling of euphoria replaced the fear and a smile was his last conscious physical command. His shoulders shuddered and his legs tensed as his body attempted to breath until the very last moment. As his life sustaining systems shut down, the brain became deprived of oxygen, and a last single firework filled the darkness. His equation burst into the night sky, turning a bright shade of blue, before cascading to the ground in magnificent fashion.
*******************
65.
Hans could feel his consciousness begin to conquer the darkness, but his years of training told him to keep still. His only advantage was that Chase considered him to be immobilized. With extreme caution he raised his right eyelid to assess the situation.
Hovering above him, a semi-automatic pistol in her hand, stood a weeping Angela Sarff, Ahiga at her side, and Chase kneeling a few feet away by another man’s unmoving form. Across from Chase sat a large man Hans didn’t recognize. Everyone’s attention, though, focused upon the lifeless body.
Focusing inward, Hans cursed his luck at being outnumbered and outgunned. His father, Dietrich Hoff, was nowhere to be seen and a rage built inside. He had one opportunity to survive, and seeing his chance, he took it.
Hans moved with purpose and at great speed. Angela had been dangling the pistol and he lunged toward it, hand outstretched. He almost had salvation within his grasp when a violent blow to his throat sent the small German sprawling. Clasping his hands around his neck while attempting to breathe, Hans could feel his body being treated like a rag doll. In an instant, though, all pain left his body, and he found himself lying on his back.
Rex Chase stood over the immobile Hans, removing items from a small black pouch he had retrieved from his cargo pocket. The others stared in shock as Chase used the scalpel he wielded in his right hand to cut a small hole in the throat of his nemesis. Without showing the slightest bit of emotion, Rex stuffed a long clear tube down the hole he had just cut, attached a small blue bag to its end, and squeezed one time. Hans’ chest rose as his lungs filled with air.
“What are you doing?” Angela’s voice shook, and Ahiga held her close.
“I’m saving his life, for now.” Chase’s voice did not shake, and stood colored with hate. The others waited in silence as Chase continued. “Hans, I have a few things to explain to you. Number one, is that you are going to die. How fast you die, however, is all up to you. Don’t bother attempting to speak. We will use yes or no questions from now on. Blink one time for yes, and two times for no. Do you understand?”
Hans blinked once, and all present could see the panic on his face. The once defiant German was now helpless at the hands of his enemies. He moved his mouth, attempting to coax a breath from his diaphragm, but it was to no avail. Chase pushed in on the weasel’s chest, and squeezed the blue bag once again.
“You’ll notice, Hans, that I have damaged your spinal cord at the c5 vertebrae. This guarantees that your mind will be active; however, you are paralyzed from the neck down. The only thing keeping you alive is this little blue bag.” Chase breathed for the German once again before continuing. “When I was parachuting into this place I saw an airfield a short distance away. Is that where Hoff is going right now?” Hans blinked one time and the look on Chase’s face hardened. “Don’t lie to me, Hans. I don’t have time for this, but we can sit here all day if you’d like.”
Chase leaned back, no longer working the life giving oxygen into Hans’ body. Within thirty seconds the expression on the German’s face became distressed, and after a minute turned to sheer panic. Rex leaned forward, pressed in on the chest, and delivered two bags of air.
“You know full well, Hans, that there isn’t an airfield within twenty miles. Now, let’s try this again. Is Hoff leaving the country tonight?” Hans blinked once, and received a breath. “Good. I believe you. Were you to follow in the car outside?” Hans blinked once again, and received another breath. “Excellent. Is there anything in the vehicle that can corroborate your story?” Hans blinked once again, but during the questioning, Ahiga had already gone outside, and now returned with a black bag.
“It looks to me like they are going to be leaving from a small airfield about fifty miles away. If we leave right now, maybe we can catch him. I think…” George spoke with purpose, but Chase cut him off.
“Does it say anything in there about where they are headed?” Without removing his eyes from Hans Chase asked the question. When Ahiga hesitated, he asked again. “Well?”
“The final destination seems to be in northern Africa somewhere.” George’s voice was calm. “Rex, we’ve gotta get going. We can catch him.”
“Hans will die the same way my Mary Elizabeth died, but he’ll know that it is coming.” Chase leaned in close to the hapless man, whispering in his ear. “I don’t care if it takes all night.”
“Son. What we’re fighting for is bigger than this. I feel no sympathy for this man, but we need to go now.”
“Count yourself lucky, Hans.” Chase snarled in his ear before standing, the blue bag still in his hand. “I’ll meet you in the car guys. Give me a minute?”
The others left the room and Chase studied his adversary on the ground. Once, Hans’ eyes had burned with hatred and anger. Now, he looked like the scared little boy who once peddled papers and shined shoes on the street. Cha
se kneeled down, forced more oxygen into his foe’s lungs, and noticed the young German’s left arm and hand moving. Realizing he was about to commit cold blooded murder Rex’s countenance changed as he leaned in close to speak.
“I already know about Ksar el Kabir. I already know about your sister. I already know everything. It seems you still have control of your arms, and perhaps I let my anger get the best of me. Your fate will be your own.” Chase breathed for the young German once more, and then placed the blue bag in his enemies’ hand. Sheer panic dominated Hans’ expression for a short time, but then changed to a look of utter hatred. He glared at his perceived executioner as Chase leaned close once again. “I told you I would kill you for what you did to Mary Elizabeth. She was perfect, beautiful and innocent. Your life is saved because I know she wouldn’t want me to kill you in cold blood. As long as you squeeze that bag, you will live.”
Hans’ eyes darted back and forth between Chase and the life sustaining device he had maneuvered onto his chest. As the seconds passed, his arms seemed to be regaining much of their mobility, but he could not feel his legs or chest. His decision was simple. The killer grasped the tube protruding from his throat and began extracting it. Pure evil and hatred flashed in his eyes. He would rather die than live as an invalid.
“I was hoping that would be your decision.” Chase’s voice emanated hate. “Enjoy Hell.”
Hans’ final physical act was to blink once.
*******************
66.
At speeds of over one hundred miles per hour the Mercedes Benz 540k felt as if it were floating through the air. Ahiga guided the vehicle across the German countryside, and within twenty minutes they were already approaching the airport where Hoff’s plane awaited. Soon, they would be thrust back into action, but for now the scene was peaceful.
Only the sounds of the motorcar, and the wind whipping past the vehicle, permeated the silence. Alexei Chase sat across from his son, staring into the night. Angela Sarff shivered as the chill spring air whipped past. Rex Chase sat in the rear, holding the lifeless body of his friend Bobby Poppen. George’s voice broke the silence.
“Get ready, we’ve got a problem up ahead.” In the middle of the road sat a massive German tank, flanked by no less than twenty SS soldiers. Ahiga brought the Mercedes to normal speeds as he assessed their options. “Whatya think guys?”
“I say we go with the German Fallschirmjager General routine again. I can…”
A large explosion interrupted Chase’s plan, followed by a supersonic boom. The land in front of their vehicle disappeared, and dirt rained from the sky. Ahiga attempted a controlled slide, turning his wheels, while gunning the engine, but the rear of the vehicle caught the crater, and the Mercedes rolled.
Three times the luxury vehicle rolled over itself before coming to rest on all four of its tires. Its helpless occupants flew like rag dolls from their seats. Angela Sarff ejected through the passenger window, and Alexei suffered a similar fate. Chase and Ahiga’s sheer strength and speed saved themselves from being thrown, but both men sat beaten and bruised. Dazed, Chase was the first to speak.
“You ok?”
“I think so. Wait, where’s Angela?”
“My dad isn’t in here anymore either.”
The sound of motorcycles filled their ears, and within seconds German troops surrounded the vehicle. George, his wits still rattled, surrendered without a fight. Chase, however, attempted his ruse. In perfect German he spoke to their captors.
“Imbeciles. I am a General in the Fallschirmjager. I’ll hang you all in the…”
They met his attempt to exert authority with the butt of a pistol to the back of his neck. Chase fell to his knees, and he glared into the unfeeling eyes of his captors. Without the slightest bit of fear he spoke again.
“You will all die. I’ll see to it myself.”
Their captors handcuffed Ahiga and Chase and led them toward the road block near the tank. Angela and Alexei sat just to the side of a guard shack and both seemed to have escaped serious injury. Chase spoke again, but in English.
“Where is the body of my friend? I swear if you’ve done anything to desecrate his…”
The butt of a pistol interrupted his threat and once again drove him to his knees.
“I assure you we have no plans to…”
All of a sudden a hail of automatic gunfire filled the night air. German soldiers began falling like flies, and confusion was everywhere. Chase took the opportunity to tackle his friend Ahiga, shielding them against the side of the tank. A shadowy figure stepped over the two friends, opened the hatch to the tank, and tossed in a grenade. Seconds passed before the muted explosion, and Chase saw the figure approach, his hand extended.
“Go ahead. I’m on your side.”
Standing six feet one inch the apparition now stepped into the light. He was an older gentleman, perhaps in his early fifties, with bright silver hair parted and combed to the side in meticulous fashion. Large dimples accentuated an easy smile, and though he had just killed twenty men, a kindness emanated from him.
Chase took the stranger’s hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. The stranger did the same with Ahiga, and then led the two friends into the guard shack with Angela and Alexei. They had witnessed the entire event, and sat, their mouths agape in astonishment.
“You killed twenty men by yourself.” Alexei said and the man replied.
“We all have gifts.”
“What are you doing out here? How did you get…”
“We’ll have plenty of time for questions later Mr. Chase.” The stranger smiled again as he introduced himself. “My name is Leonard.”
“I’m Rex Chase, but I guess you knew that, this is my father Alexei Chase, my friend George Ahiga, and his girl Angela Sarff.” The three others shook hands with the man who had saved their lives. Chase looked at the grisly scene that surrounded them in amazement. “How did you do that?”
“That’s not important now. What’s important is that you get to the airport and follow Hoff. I believe you know where he is headed?” Leonard’s tone was all business.
“I do know where he’s going, but I don’t have a plane, and I’m not a real pilot.”
“That’s not what I hear. If you can crash a B17 in the ocean and survive, you’ve graduated pilot school. The General seems to hold you in the highest regards.” Chase couldn’t hide the quizzical look on his face, and decided to stop trying.
“So, you work for the General.”
“Something like that. Would the three of you mind if I spoke to Rex in private?”
The others gave their blessing, and Leonard escorted Chase a short distance away. They spoke for fifteen minutes. Ahiga saw Chase listening with intent and wondered what the conference was about. When Rex, without saying a word to them, walked to a vehicle a short distance away and drove off alone, George stood to confront the stranger.
“Hey. Wait a minute. You can’t just…”
“Take it easy, son. Rex has something he needs to do by himself. I need you and the others to come with me. The General authorized all of this, and we will speak to him in short order. We have a quick walk ahead of us to the landing strip. I have a plane there and will fly us out of Germany. For now, that is all the three of you need to know.”
“We must bring Bobby with us. He deserves it.” Alexei Chase spoke in a quiet tone, and received the answer he wished.
“Of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
*******************
67.
Dietrich Hoff had escaped Germany with ease. The word of the attack on his compound and the failure of his scalar weapon had not yet spread. Though he feared the Fuhrer would attempt to capitalize on his apparent weakness, Hoff had spent the previous days assuring his empire would survive.
He had slept a few hours in his luxurious DC-3, and as the plane circled his private air strip just outside of Ksar el Kabir in Morroco, Hoff yawned. His wife was dead, his
most trusted associate, a man he had called son, was presumed to be dead, and rumors said Rex Chase was hunting him. Nothing could dampen his spirits, though, as the aircraft touched down. In a few short hours he would take his rightful place as emperor of the world.
“Welcome back to Morrocco, sir. We have a car waiting for you.”
Hoff gave an odd look to the short, dark skinned man with the heavy English accent. Dietrich had been to Africa on many occasions, but had never received a warm welcome. He couldn’t blame the locals since he had turned many of them into slave laborers.
“Thank you. That will be all.”
Hoff watched as the man loaded bags into the rear of the Mercedes, and then made his way to the small shack where Hoff assumed the man spent most of his time. Dietrich rubbed his eyes as he sat behind the wheel of the black luxury vehicle, started its engine, and began the short drive to his Moroccan home.
If it weren’t for his current lack of sleep his guard would have raised as he left the air strip. Workers stopped as his vehicle moved past, and many stared, as if he were some sort of super star. Most nights the locals paid him little mind.
“I’ll never understand Africans. I suppose they wonder why I’m alone.”
Hoff muttered the words to himself as he shifted the Mercedes through its gears. He couldn’t remember the last time he had visited this particular estate alone. Oftentimes he had used it as a retreat for one of his many extramarital affairs. That was it. He hadn’t brought a beautiful woman with him and that surprised the locals.
Five minutes later Hoff pulled into the driveway of his massive African estate. Out of the desert, the six thousand square foot structure stuck out like a sore thumb. Hundreds of workers had died working on the imported marble building. It was more a work of art than a home, and Hoff was quite proud.
