An Army of One: A John Rossett Novel

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An Army of One: A John Rossett Novel Page 30

by Tony Schumacher

The Bear smiled, sat up on the bunk, and then picked up the cuffs.

  He looked at Rossett. “I like him.” He snapped on the cuffs and held them out for Jimmy to inspect.

  Jimmy entered the cell and approached the Bear slowly. He reached out with his left hand to check that the cuffs were tight enough to prevent them being slipped over the Bear’s hands. As he drew close, the Bear jerked forward a couple of inches in an attempt to scare him.

  It didn’t scare him.

  Jimmy swiped hard and fast with a short leather cosh that had been concealed in his right hand. It connected with the Bear’s temple and spun him down onto the mattress face-first.

  Jimmy stepped back and waited a few seconds for the Bear to look up. He blinked, reached up to his temple and dabbed a finger at the quarter-inch cut above his eye, then looked at the blood on it.

  “That was my head, not my arse.”

  Jimmy slipped the cosh back into his pocket and gestured that the Bear should hold out his hands again.

  “I’m sorry.” Jimmy ratcheted the cuffs tighter by a few notches, then took a step back. “I couldn’t tell the difference.”

  Rossett stood in the enquiry office and looked out through the glass in the door.

  The street looked empty.

  There were still the odd piles of rubbish waiting in vain for a refuse collection, and the few streetlamps that were working lit the cobbles silver-star white. Away at the edges of the street, where the soft light blurred, shadows skulked away in the corners and cracks, hinting at danger.

  In one of the office buildings on the other side of the street, whoever had been last to leave had left a desk lamp burning away and holding the night at bay until morning.

  “Well?” Jimmy asked from over by the counter.

  Rossett didn’t answer. Instead, he shifted position to the other side of the door and checked the other end of the street.

  It was just as dead.

  “This is the best car you’ve got?” Rossett finally said.

  “It’s the only car we’ve got.” Jimmy got to the point quickly.

  “Is it fueled up?”

  “It’ll have a couple of gallons in it.”

  Rossett looked at the keys in his hand, then out through the glass at the old Ford Model C sitting outside. It had more scars than he did, and it looked about as capable of moving quickly on a cold morning.

  “They’ll have roadblocks, Lion,” the Bear chimed in. “Running is a mistake. That window closed hours ago.”

  “Sitting still is a bigger one.” Rossett noticed a stray dog dragging at some of the rubbish up the street. It scratched at some old sacking, gave a wag of the tail, then stopped and sniffed the air.

  Rossett turned to Jimmy.

  “When I go outside, bring him to the door so I can see you both through the glass. Once the car is started, come out. Put him in the passenger front seat, and you sit behind. Okay?”

  “Yes.”

  Rossett looked at the Bear.

  “I want to take you in alive. Do you understand that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Just because I want that doesn’t mean it’s going to happen. If I have to, I will shoot you. Do you understand?”

  “Obviously.”

  Rossett nodded, grabbed hold of the door handle, then turned back around as the Bear called to him.

  “Lion?”

  “What?”

  “You don’t really think you will be able to do this, do you?”

  “You’d be surprised at what I can do.” Rossett picked up his rifle and opened the door.

  “If I know Dannecker, you won’t even make it to that car,” the Bear said.

  Rossett paused, looked out into the street, and then flicked his fingers toward Jimmy.

  “Bring him over.”

  Jimmy did as he was told.

  Rossett took hold of the Bear’s arm and pulled him around so that he became a human shield.

  “How about we see if he lets you make it to the car instead?”

  Even though Rossett had been standing next to the half-open door, the shock of the cold morning air still made him shiver. They moved as one, a tightly packed bunch of three heading for the Ford, which was parked twenty feet away across the pavement.

  Out of the corner of his eye Rossett saw the stray dog watching them from up the street, and then he saw the first of the open windows.

  Three floors up, a hundred yards away, right above the dog, and open just enough for a sniper to shoot through. The building had been out of his sightline when he had been in the station.

  He’d made a mistake.

  The second he saw the window he knew it.

  He was already pulling the Bear and Jimmy back toward the police station as the first round hit the near side of the Ford. Their tight group split a little as the second, then the third, then the fourth shot slammed into the old metal or onto the cobbles.

  By the time the sixth, seventh, and eighth rounds had hit, Rossett, the Bear, and Jimmy were falling through the front door of the police station and sprawling onto the office floor.

  Rossett kicked the door shut with his heel, then rolled onto his stomach and looked for the Bear. He was lying underneath Jimmy, who was shoving his revolver hard into the back of his neck.

  They all lay on the floor for a few seconds listening to the shooting outside. Eventually, it stopped. They waited in silence until the Bear finally broke it.

  “That went well.”

  It took Dannecker two or three attempts to get his men to stop shooting. The air in the office stank of cordite, and the sudden silence seemed as deafening as the gunfire that had gone before it.

  He lifted his field glasses to check the car and pavement in front of the police station.

  The Ford was peppered with silver flecks and looked like it had a flat tire. Dannecker scanned the stretch of road between the car and the station. He squinted but didn’t think he could see blood on the pavement. He breathed out, then lowered the glasses and shouted over his shoulder.

  “Where’s the field telephone?”

  He hadn’t wanted to start shooting. Dannecker didn’t want a dead Bear.

  His original plan had been to make contact with Rossett and try to reason with him. If that failed, like he guessed it was going to, he was going to send Becker and a squad into the rear of the police station while he and his team assaulted the front.

  That was the plan, and he knew it was a bad one, but it was all he had been able to come up with as the clock ticked down and the pressure squeezed tighter.

  He was just going to shout for the phone again when a private ran up the stairs and held out the receiver to him.

  “They’re ready to go, sir.”

  Dannecker took the phone and ducked his head a little as he looked out through the window toward the police station again. He checked his watch, then spoke into the field telephone.

  “Becker?”

  “Sir?”

  “I’m going to try to talk some sense into them. If it fails, I want you to storm that place as fast as you can.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Do not kill Bauer, do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “If he dies—”

  “I understand, sir.”

  Dannecker passed the phone back to the private and turned back to the window.

  A few seconds later, on the street directly below him, he saw a three-man squad moving toward the police station under the cover of a white flag. One of them was laying out wire while the second was carrying a field telephone.

  Dannecker checked his watch. It seemed to be speeding up, just like his heart rate.

  “Back entrances and windows?” Rossett was looking out the front door as everyone caught their breath.

  “The cells have their own entrance, but there’s no way through unless they have a tank.” Jimmy had taken up station with the Bear by the desk again. “There’s the fire exit for the main building, and then one doo
r to the backyard. I told the lads to check everywhere was secure before they left.”

  Rossett stared at the car. It was going nowhere. Underneath, a slick of oil was staining the street, running past the flat tire, and pooling in the gutter.

  He strained to look up at the building where the snipers had been sited. He couldn’t see the open windows from where he was, but he could tell that they would give a field of fire right down to the intersection at the other end of the road. There was little or no cover if Rossett were stupid enough to try to make a break for it.

  He moved back, then knelt down on one knee next to Jimmy and the Bear.

  “Where did you get those medals?” Rossett nodded his head toward Jimmy’s chest.

  “The Great War. The Somme, and then Cambrai.”

  “Regiment?”

  “The Kings.”

  “I was in the Guards, joined up in ’39.”

  “I know. I read about you.”

  “I’m sorry for dragging you into this.”

  “My job dragged me into it, not you.”

  Rossett nodded, glanced back at the door, and then looked at Jimmy again.

  “They want him alive.” Rossett pointed at the Bear. “So I don’t think they will come in heavy to get him. We just need to wait this out until the phones come back on and I can call London.”

  “And if they don’t come back on?”

  “Dannecker can’t keep the entire city in lockdown. He’s got a ship to catch, and if he misses it, it won’t take long for people to realize something is wrong. When that happens, they’ll start to investigate.”

  “Dannecker won’t sit and wait.” The Bear was sitting with his back to the counter and his eyes closed. “When the pressure is on, he only has one way of dealing with it.”

  “Which is?” Jimmy looked at the Bear.

  “Violently.” The Bear shrugged.

  “I thought it might be.” Jimmy turned back to Rossett. “Well?”

  “We just need time,” Rossett said. “They won’t try to come in until they’ve used up all the other options. We just need to keep them talking.”

  “What ship?” Jimmy asked.

  “There is a ship that sails in the morning. Dannecker needs to be on it.”

  “If he’s on it, won’t the Nazis just radio the ship and turn it around?”

  “Not this ship. Even if they know he is on it, it’s American navy. The Germans won’t want to go near it for fear of causing an incident. If Dannecker gets on it, Dannecker won’t be getting off until he is across the Atlantic.”

  “And if he doesn’t?”

  “This whole thing will come tumbling down around him, and we will have saved a lot of lives.”

  “You think?” The Bear opened his eyes.

  “When I tell the authorities about the gold, Dannecker, and what you’ve done, the people you have killed and why you have killed them . . .”

  The Bear looked at Rossett.

  “You know, I honestly thought that you were going to be a challenge. I thought you’d be a threat to me, and yet . . .” The Bear paused, looking for the words as he stared at the exit onto the street. “And yet . . . you’re just so fucking stupid it hurts my brain.”

  Jimmy looked at Rossett, then back at the Bear as he continued.

  “They made you out to be some sort of super warrior, all the stories about you fighting us, and then fighting the resistance for us. And yet when I finally have to face you, you’re just a dumb grunt of a man.”

  Rossett stared at him a moment, then returned to his position by the door.

  “We need to barricade this entrance.”

  The Bear carried on speaking as if Rossett hadn’t spoken.

  “You’re brave, I’ll give you that, but bravery doesn’t make you clever.” The Bear looked at Jimmy. “I normally find that those who show extreme bravery on the battlefield are either brain dead or just plain dead.”

  The Bear turned back to Rossett.

  “If Dannecker isn’t on the boat, he isn’t simply going to go home and wait to be arrested. He is going to make sure you and I—and, sadly for this old man, him—are all dead so that we can’t talk.”

  “So what would you do?” Finally Rossett looked around at the Bear.

  “I’d speak to him on a field telephone. Like the one his men are leaving on the bottom step right behind you.”

  Rossett spun and pointed his Webley at the three Germans outside. The one with the white flag waved it furiously as they backed away. Rossett lifted his pistol an inch or two and watched them go.

  Rossett glanced up toward the sniping windows, then gestured that Jimmy should move the Bear to behind the counter. Jimmy did as he was told, grabbing the Bear by the collar and dragging him before he could struggle to his feet. The Bear slid on the polished wooden floor, banging his head on the counter door as he was shoved through it.

  Rossett waited.

  Outside on the steps, the field telephone started to ring.

  Rossett opened the door.

  The ringing of the phone grew louder. It was on the third step, just close enough to reach for, but far enough away for a good sniper to put a hole in his head if he was careless.

  Rossett took a deep breath and grabbed it.

  He was back inside before it had time to ring again.

  “Hello?”

  “Rossett?”

  “Who else would it be?”

  “This is Dannecker.”

  “I know.”

  “Is everyone all right in there?”

  “What do you want?”

  “You know what I want.”

  “You can’t have him.”

  Dannecker paused, and Rossett glanced over to the counter to check on Jimmy. He was standing up, slightly bent at the waist, watching him back.

  Dannecker crackled back on the line.

  “We need to try to resolve this situation, John. It isn’t doing either of us any favors.”

  “Don’t call me John.”

  “I need Captain Bauer, and if you—”

  “Dannecker. You’re not getting your gold, and you aren’t getting on that ship, either. It’s over for you. Enjoy your last night of freedom.”

  “I have enough men here to take him from you.”

  “You have no idea, do you?”

  “What?” Dannecker sounded unsure.

  “I’m a force of nature.” Rossett turned away from the door and stalked around the enquiry office as he growled. “You aren’t coming for me. I’m coming for you. I’m going to end you. I’m going to get justice for all the people you’ve killed, all the lives you’ve ruined, all the crimes you’ve committed.”

  “You don’t—”

  “I’m coming for the children and the men and women of this city.”

  “Inspector.”

  “Know this, Major: I’m coming for you and I am going to make you pay.”

  Rossett opened the door and tossed the telephone out into the street. He turned, picked up his .303 and the canvas ammo shoulder bag, and looked over it at the Bear.

  “You want to fight me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, I promise you’ll get your chance, but only if you do as I say right now. Yes?”

  “It depends on what you say.”

  “Run.”

  The Bear considered the offer, looked at Jimmy, and nodded.

  They crouched just inside the doorway, Rossett and Jimmy, with the handcuffed Bear between them.

  “The office opposite.”

  “Which one?”

  “That one.” Rossett pointed at the building directly across the road.

  “It used to be an insurance company. They’ve long gone, though. You sometimes see a caretaker coming and going, but other than that, the place is empty.” Jimmy shifted a few inches to allow the Bear a view of the place they were talking about.

  “We’re going through that door.”

  “It’ll be locked.”

  “It’ll be
open by the time you get there. Just run, don’t stop. If one of you goes down, keep running. I’ll be behind you, and I’ll get the door open and the other person up before you get there.”

  “And then?” The Bear stared across the street.

  “We go right through the building fast, until we make it out the other side.”

  “What’s on the other side?” The Bear again.

  “Us, in about one minute.” Rossett shuffled back half a pace, then got up to his feet. He looked at his watch and then at Jimmy. “You ready?”

  Jimmy adjusted the ammo bag on his shoulder, checked the Bear’s handcuffs, and picked up his .303.

  “Yes.”

  “You?”

  The Bear shrugged. “As I’ll ever be.”

  “Okay . . . run!” Rossett kicked open the front door.

  The Bear and Jimmy were gone almost before Rossett had finished saying it. Both of them darted down the steps and ran for their lives. They didn’t stop, they did as they were told. Running hard, the Bear in the lead, hands handcuffed in front of him. Jimmy five feet behind, holding the .303 across his chest.

  Rossett gave them a start.

  Then shot at the plate glass door across the street. His rifle was down by his hip, his right hand a blur as it fired, flicking the bolt, firing again, flicking the bolt.

  Three rounds. The plate glass door shuddered, then shattered in a million shards that dropped straight down like diamond snow.

  The Bear and Jimmy were through.

  Dannecker was on the field phone to Becker.

  “Smash windows, set fires, and we’ll drive them out the fro—”

  The sound of shooting made him drop the phone, then stand up so he could see into the room where he’d set the snipers.

  Rounds were flying and empty cases were pooling as his men let loose with their StG 44s out the windows.

  “Cease firing!” Dannecker ran to the nearest window, dropped to one knee, and looked out. “What was it?” He had to shout over the voices of the men at the windows calling to their colleagues to cease firing.

  The fire-team corporal pushed back his helmet and pointed to the window.

  “They ran sir, two and then one, straight out the police station and across the road.”

  “Where?”

  “Into the other building, all three of them.”

 

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