Angel of Doom (Anna Fehrback Book 5)

by Christopher Nicole

  ‘Shit!’ Anna said. Could Himmler have returned? Or had Goebbels changed his mind . . . or perhaps been countermanded by Hitler? Birgit pushed back her chair, but Anna waved her to sit still. ‘I’ll get it.’

  She went to the door, drew a deep breath, opened it, and gazed at Stefan.

  ‘Countess?’ he asked incredulously, taking in her masculine uniform.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Anna asked.

  ‘I have come to see you.’

  ‘You had better come in.’ She closed and locked the door again. ‘Why have you come to see me?’

  ‘I was worried about you. It is so long since you came to the gym . . .’ He looked past her at Rudent. ‘Or have you been too busy?’

  ‘Yes, I have been too busy. On government business. Would you like a glass of champagne?’

  ‘That would be very nice.’

  Anna signalled Birgit, who poured a fresh glass and gave it to him.

  ‘Birgit, my maid,’ Anna explained. ‘Captain Rudent, my driver. This is Stefan Edert, my trainer,’ she explained.

  Rudent showed no inclination to shake hands. He was, in fact, looking as disgruntled as Stefan with this new development. Which gave Anna an idea; she could not escape the suspicion that he might prove difficult when her true plans became apparent. But Stefan was utterly devoted to her – or so he claimed. Certainly he wanted to possess her more than anything else in life – or so he claimed.

  ‘So,’ she said. ‘Is all well at the gymnasium?’

  He shrugged. ‘No one comes any more.’

  ‘So what do you do?’

  ‘Nothing. Wait for you to come back.’

  ‘Did you think I had deserted you?’ She squeezed his hand. ‘So, you have lost your job.’

  ‘It is more correct to say that my job has lost me.’ He drank some champagne, and licked his lips as he looked at the still laden table.

  ‘Have you dined?’

  ‘Not recently.’

  ‘Then dine with us.’ She sat beside him. ‘What are you going to do?’

  He shrugged. ‘Wait for the end, I suppose.’

  ‘Have you family in Berlin?’

  ‘No. My family live in Bonn.’ He gave a sad smile. ‘They are safely prisoners of the Americans by now.’

  ‘Then why do you remain here?’

  ‘I have no means of leaving.’

  ‘Yes, you do. You can come with us.’

  ‘What?’ Rudent demanded.

  ‘Stefan could be very useful,’ Anna said, placatingly. ‘He is highly trained in both unarmed combat and with weapons.’

  ‘You are leaving Berlin?’ Stefan asked. ‘Dressed as soldiers? You are abandoning the city?’

  ‘Of course we are not. We are going on a highly secret mission for the Führer, to meet someone of the greatest importance and bring her to him.’

  His eyes glowed. ‘Fraulein Braun!’

  ‘I’m sorry. I am not at liberty to reveal her name. Will you come with us?’

  ‘Of course. It will be an honour.’

  ‘Well, then, finish your meal. We leave in fifteen minutes. Are you armed?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Give him your gun, Birgit. He knows more about it than you. And here is a silencer.’

  ‘Countess?’

  ‘Put it in your pocket,’ Anna insisted. ‘You never know when you may need it.’

  She had no doubt that there would probably be storms ahead, but she was employing the age-old political ploy of divide and rule.

  *

  It was now utterly dark outside, and distinctly chilly, although it was not actually snowing. The sentries knew better than to question the Countess von Widerstand’s movements, however oddly she might be dressed, and although the officer in charge of the fuel dump grumbled, once he had scanned Goebbels’ orders he not only filled their tank but at Anna’s request gave them four spare five-gallon drums of petrol. These they placed in the boot.

  ‘How far is this training camp?’ Rudent asked.

  ‘About forty kilometres,’ Anna said.

  ‘Well, you know, Countess, we can go and return on one tank of petrol. And having all that in the boot . . . suppose we were to get hit?’

  ‘It always pays to have a reserve,’ Anna said. ‘And it is up to you to make sure that we do not get hit. Let’s move.’

  She put Birgit in the front beside Rudent – it seemed more appropriate for the enlisted ‘man’ to ride beside the driver, while the major sat in the back with the civilian. They proceeded slowly out of the city, having to use a very circuitous route as so many of the streets were impassable.

  ‘Do you know how much that uniform becomes you?’ Stefan whispered. ‘But then, anything becomes you.’

  ‘You say the sweetest things.’

  ‘Are we really just going to this camp for Fraulein Braun and then straight back to Berlin?’

  ‘Those are my orders. Why, would you prefer to do something different?’ She turned her head to look at him, holding her breath.

  ‘You must obey the Führer,’ he agreed. ‘But when we get back . . .’

  He still had only sex with her in mind. She had to hope that his desire was greater than his loyalty to the Reich. ‘We’ll talk about it again when we stop,’ she promised.

  *

  They were at the first checkpoint. ‘You need to keep your eyes open, Herr Major,’ the captain said; he could not see her clearly in the gloom. ‘We have received a report of a Russian patrol on this road.’

  ‘That is impossible,’ Anna said. ‘The Russians are still thirty miles south of the city.’

  ‘That was their last communiqué, certainly, and this report is unconfirmed. There is another checkpoint ten kilometres along the road. They should be able to tell you if it is true.’

  ‘And after that?’

  ‘It is thirty kilometres to the Görzke checkpoint.’

  ‘Thank you, Captain. Drive on, Captain Rudent.’

  Rudent engaged gear and the car moved forward. ‘What are we going to do?’

  ‘Continue to our destination,’ Anna told him. ‘Stop at the ten-kilometre checkpoint, and then do not stop again for any reason until we reach Görzke.’

  He made no comment, but drove on into the darkness. He had to use headlights because of the state of the road, but these were dimmed, and for the moment there did not appear to be any air activity. In fact, they seemed to be utterly isolated, the sounds of gunfire distant to the south of them, their only company the occasional village of shattered houses. There were no people; everyone who could had got out, either to the west and the Allies, or to the doubtful protection of Berlin.

  They reached the ten-kilometre checkpoint. ‘We heard a report of Russian activity on this road,’ Anna remarked to the lieutenant.

  ‘That is correct, Herr Major. A patrol from Görzke came under fire, and they naturally assumed it was Russians. But none of them were hit, and we have heard nothing further.’

  ‘How long ago was this incident?’

  ‘About three hours.’

  ‘And nothing since? It was probably deserters.’

  ‘On the other hand,’ the lieutenant said, ‘since that patrol, there has been no traffic from Görzke.’

  ‘Well, what do you expect, on a night like this? Raise the barrier.’

  ‘You are going on?’

  ‘Of course. I have my orders.’

  He hesitated, then saluted, and stepped back. The barrier was raised, and they followed their wipers into the darkness.

  ‘Now remember,’ Anna told Rudent. ‘You stop for nothing until Görzke.’

  *

  Once again the darkness, and the isolation. The rain became heavier, but Anna reckoned it gave them added protection. And there was no sign of any Russians. She was beginning to feel quite relaxed when Birgit gasped, ‘A light! I see a light!’

  It was waving to and fro in the wet darkness. Rudent slowed.

  ‘How far are we from the last checkpoint?
’ Anna asked.

  ‘Eight kilometres.’

  ‘Then drive through it. Full speed!’

  Rudent hesitated, then the car gathered speed. Anna could now make out several vehicles beside the road. She drew her pistol, but as she did so, as it had become obvious that they were not going to stop, the people behind the light opened fire. Bullets smashed into the car, shattering the windscreen. Birgit uttered a shriek and slid off her seat to the floor. Rudent gave a gasp, reared back in his seat and then fell forward, slumping over the wheel.

  Anna, seated immediately behind him, had instinctively ducked behind the front seats, and before she could recover the car had left the road and was rolling over down the parapet and into the water-filled ditch. I’m going to drown, she thought, as water flooded through the shattered windows. She cast a hasty glance to her right, saw that Stefan was already out of his door. The bastard, she thought. Her door was jammed into the earth, but she pushed herself up, pulling herself through the open door, gasping for breath.

  There was no sign of Stefan. Whatever he had decided to do, he had done it very promptly and apparently without a thought for his companions. Birgit was still screaming. But at least she was alive. Anna knelt on the side of the car and tugged the front door open. Birgit peered up at her. ‘Oh, Countess! Those people were shooting at us.’

  ‘Are you hit?’

  ‘I don’t think so. But Captain Rudent . . . he’s all bloody. I think he’s dead.’

  ‘You win some, you lose some,’ Anna pointed out, while she thought, Poor Rudent. But that had been his likely fate in any event, and at least she had not had to do it herself. ‘Come on, up you get. We have to get away from here.’

  But even as she spoke she realized that they were too late. Figures were emerging from the wet gloom to stand around the car, which, surprisingly, although on its side, had not caught fire; but then, all the bullets had been directed at the windshield.

  She held Birgit’s hands and dragged her up. ‘Oh, Countess,’ the maid gasped as she saw the looming figures. ‘What is going to happen to us?’

  ‘Take each moment as it comes,’ Anna advised.

  The Russians surrounded them. ‘Well, well,’ one said, as Anna understood; she had become fluent in Russian during her stay in that country. ‘A woman, pretending to be a man!’

  Shit, Anna thought as she put up her hand and discovered that her helmet had come off; her wet hair was plastered to her head, but it had uncoiled and was obviously very long.

  She slid off the car and dropped to the ground, and heard another man say, loudly, ‘What was that? A woman?’

  ‘Two women, Comrade Captain,’ the first man said.

  The captain advanced, and a light was held up to shine in Anna’s face. She had dropped her pistol in the crash and they could see that her holster was empty. The captain peered at her, then stretched out his hand to grasp her hair and give it a slight tug. ‘I think,’ he said, ‘that we have won the prize, Corporal.’ He switched to rather bad German. ‘You are the Countess von Widerstand, eh?’

  ‘Do I look like a countess?’ Anna asked, in Russian. For the moment she could do nothing more than follow the advice she had given Birgit.

  ‘Ha! You speak Russian.’

  ‘I would have thought that was obvious.’

  He stared at her, then without warning hit her in the stomach. She gasped with pain and loss of breath, and fell forward. The captain stepped aside and she landed on her knees, using her hands to stop her face ploughing into the ground. ‘In Russia,’ he said, ‘we beat rude women. Krassner, use the field telephone. Call Colonel Smyslov and tell him that we have captured the Countess von Widerstand. Then pack up this post; there could be an escort back there. Get her up.’

  Two men grasped Anna’s arms and pulled her to her feet; she was still breathless and felt physically sick from the blow to her stomach.

  ‘I am told she has a reputation,’ the colonel said. ‘You had better secure her wrists. Behind her back.’

  A cord was produced, and Anna’s arms were pulled behind her back and secured. Then she was bundled into the back of a truck, to sit on the floor beside a shivering Birgit, whose wrists had also been bound behind her back. ‘Countess!’ she whispered. ‘What is going to happen to us?’ Although she had been in Russia with Anna, she had never troubled to learn the language.

  Three men had got into the truck behind them. ‘No talking!’ one of these snapped, his meaning unmistakable even if the maid could not understand the words.

  But even if they had been allowed to talk, Anna would have had nothing to say. As the pain subsided her brain was starting to work again, but at the moment it was going round in circles. Quite apart from the catastrophe of Rudent’s death or Stefan’s cowardice – had he actually got away? – there was the far more catastrophic problem of her situation. From what had been said, this road block had been set up specifically to capture her. But how could they have had any idea that she would be on this road, and tonight?

  Even more importantly, how was she going to get out of it? The Russians not only knew who she was, but this time they seemed to have no doubt at all of what she was capable. They were not likely to make the mistake of giving her the slightest room to manoeuvre again.

  One of the soldiers knelt in front of her. ‘She is very handsome,’ he observed. ‘And very buxom.’

  Anna stared at him, and he unbuttoned her blouse, exposing her camiknickers. Apparently he had never seen an undergarment like this before, because he started fingering it instead of what lay beneath. Then he unbuckled her belt to pull down her pants, before raising his head to gaze at her. ‘You and I will have good sex, eh? There is time, and I am ready. Are you ready, German whore?’

  Anna spat into his face. His head reared back, as did his hand, and Anna braced herself for another savage blow. But one of his companions caught his wrist. ‘She belongs to the Commissar. If you mark her you’ll be in deep shit.’

  The man stared at Anna, and she returned his gaze. Then he put his hand inside her blouse and squeezed her breast, before withdrawing to sit on the far side of the truck. His companion pulled her pants back up and refastened the belt.

  *

  It was not a very long ride, no more than a few kilometres, Anna estimated, and then they reached the Russian outpost, situated in an abandoned village, and were marched into a smoke-filled room to confront Colonel Smyslov and the two NKVD agents. Anna drew a sharp breath as she recognized Olga, and realized that she could be in even deeper trouble than she had supposed.

  ‘Well, Comrade Commissar,’ Smyslov said. ‘Are you satisfied?’

  ‘I am very satisfied, Comrade Colonel. You were right, Olga. She is a most striking woman. Far more so than her sister.’

  Olga stood in front of Anna, brushed wet hair from her face. ‘You are a mess. Do you remember me?’

  ‘I remember you very well,’ Anna said.

  ‘As I remember you, very well. So, do you suppose some knight in shining armour, like the man Andrews, is going to rescue you this time?’

  ‘They are thin on the ground, nowadays,’ Anna agreed. ‘Am I allowed to ask what has happened to my sister?’

  ‘She is waiting for you, in the Lubianka. You can share screams, when we get you back. Let me introduce you to Commissar Tserchenko. He has been trying to meet you for so long.’

  ‘Tserchenko?’ Anna’s gaze swung to the big man.

  ‘I am sure you remember that name as well.’

  Tserchenko stepped up to her. ‘You broke my sister’s neck,’ he said. ‘With a single blow. I find that hard to believe. But I could snap your neck, now.’ He wrapped his fingers round Anna’s throat, and she caught her breath, while Birgit gave a little shriek.

  ‘Ahem,’ Olga remarked.

  The fingers relaxed. ‘Yes,’ Tserchenko said. ‘Comrade Beria wishes that pleasure for himself. After Marshal Stalin has finished with you. But I shall watch your last moments.’

  ‘And I
also,’ Olga agreed. ‘When can we leave?’ she asked Smyslov.

  ‘Not before tomorrow morning.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘As I thought might be the case, our probe has aroused the Germans. Our presence on the road has been reported, and my scouts tell me there is a considerable force moving behind us.’

  ‘You mean we could be cut off?’ Tserchenko’s voice was suddenly anxious.

  ‘I think we are already cut off,’ Smyslov said, urbanely. ‘But there is no need to be alarmed. I have radioed for assistance, and we will be relieved tomorrow. All we have to do is hold our ground until then.’

  ‘Hold our ground? You mean, we may be attacked? I did not come here to be involved in a battle.’

  ‘That we are this far advanced, and therefore in danger of being cut off, was on your instructions, Comrade Commissar.’ Smyslov could not quite keep the contempt from his tone. ‘However, the Nazis have virtually no armour left, and we can protect you until our relief arrives.’

  Tserchenko looked at Olga, suddenly adrift.

  ‘Well, we must wait until then,’ she said. ‘Where can we put these prisoners overnight?’

  ‘There is a bedroom through that door. Put them in there.’

  ‘But they must be under constant guard,’ Tserchenko insisted.

  ‘I will guard them myself,’ Olga said. ‘In there, Countess. And you.’

  Anna went through the door, followed by Birgit. Olga came in, carrying a lantern, and closed the door. ‘How nice,’ she said. ‘There is a bed for me to lie on. You two can sit on the floor. Or lie, if you like.’

  ‘Do you mean to keep our wrists tied all night?’

  ‘Of course. I know all about you.’

  ‘I need to pee.’

  ‘Wet your pants. You are soaking wet anyway. I am not going to fall for that one either.’

  Anna leaned against the wall, and slowly slid down it until she was sitting. Birgit followed her example, and their shoulders touched. ‘Countess? What is going to happen to us?’

  ‘It doesn’t look too good right this minute,’ Anna said.

  ‘If you are going to talk,’ Olga remarked, ‘I will gag you.’