by Pro Se Press
As he struggled against his bonds, The Eagle saw Meerozean come back out of the main building with a gray strong box in one hand and a small radio unit cradled in the crook of the other. The Admiral had to herd a couple of skittish steers out of the way before he could place the items in the Alvis’ back seat. Then he raced to help the others.
The Eagle longed for a look inside that strong box as he kept moving his hands back and forth, as if clumsily trying to row a boat, in hopes that the friction of rubbing the rope against the old tree would start cutting it. He knew one sure way to escape his bindings, but would only use that if absolutely necessary.
As he attempted to work his way towards freedom, the first truck was loaded. With time against them, only one tier of barrels was placed onboard, although the stake and platform arrangement could have held them two high if loaded securely.
Sweat continued to run from his brow, into his eyes, and down his body. It was getting much hotter. The Eagle couldn’t tell what progress, if any, had been made on his bindings as the fire drew dangerously closer. Yet he kept rubbing the rope frantically against the tree as idle thoughts crossed his mind. Shannon regretted not having anyone he could entrust onboard to watch Mueller, while using his own identity documents to disembark and avoid any fuss at customs. Thankfully, with this mess upon us, no one thought to ask what I used to enter Australia.
Having secretly ‘borrowed’ some chloroform from the Galee’s infirmary, the plan was to leave the Axis agent asleep in his cabin as if nothing had happened, for anyone finding him tied up would have raised an alarm. While leaving the Miller papers behind in the room’s bureau might have been a mistake, Jeff was surprised that the spy was able to shake off another dose of the drug so soon.
Through blurry eyes, The Eagle saw that all the cattle were leaving, but everyone was too busy trying to load the second truck to notice. No one was paying any attention to him, but he still hadn’t broken through the rope yet.
The smell of smoke was stronger now as the roar of the wildfire grew louder. A quick craning of his neck revealed the outer edge of the inferno was just mere feet away! The heat was unbearable, but the last thing The Eagle could afford to do was pass out.
Meanwhile, Meerozean had called a halt to the loading, despite the fact that the last truck still had some space left. The Admiral started giving orders to the other employees, before pausing to give additional orders to the driver of the second vehicle privately. Mueller was climbing into the passenger side of that truck while William ran back into the ranch’s garage for something.
As the trucks began to leave, The Eagle could feel the flames approach. He steadied himself and pulled as hard as he could against the rope. Unfortunately it still held, but he kept his hands as far apart as possible and waited.
Now it was just a question of time and fate.
With glimpses of flame on either side of him now and breathable air becoming a scarce commodity; a new noise caught his attention. The Eagle looked and saw Meerozean start to drive off in the Alvis. He’s leaving his own man behind?
The answer to his unspoken question came a moment later, when William rode out of the garage on a motorcycle, complete with sidecar.
Just as he took an appreciative look at it, The Eagle could feel the flames behind him brushing against his exposed hands.
He gritted his teeth and seconds later, started to stumble forward from the tree, for the fire had burned through the rope.
The Eagle was free!
Without a second to lose, he raced towards William and his one chance of escape.
CHAPTER FIVE
FIRE FIGHT
With the rifle slung over his back by its shoulder strap, William was looking downward. He hated to leave the attachment behind, but for faster travelling, was starting to uncouple the sidecar from his 1936 Brough Superior motorcycle when he heard something.
He looked up just in time to see The Eagle leap at him!
William tried to dodge the move, but was unable to completely escape.
While not the attempted full contact tackle, The Eagle still managed to pull William off the motorcycle. With no one at the controls, it sat there idling while the two men landed on the ground.
The ranch employee landed on his back with The Eagle on top, the Short Magazine Lee-Enfield rifle mercifully more to the side than actually against his body.
The G-2 operative had moved his right knee towards William’s groin so that it hurt the other man upon impact more than actual contact with the ground.
Although stunned, William was not unconscious, and reached up to grab The Eagle’s neck with both hands in order to choke him.
The counter espionage agent moved his left arm against his opponent’s right to prevent the attempted choke hold while The Eagle’s right fist slammed into William’s jaw.
He attempted to strike again, but William grabbed The Eagle’s fist with his left hand and managed to shove him off.
As they struggled to get back on their feet, both men noticed that the fire was already past the tree The Eagle had been tied to and was now starting to consume the bunkhouses on either side of the outer edge of the ranch’s building zone.
The two men circled each other, preparing to attack again. While the Australian had several more pounds of what was probably pure muscle mass than his foe, The Eagle was more agile and faster on his feet. Yet each was already physically tired from their previous exertions and the hot weather, along with the high heat from the approaching flames, which had all taken their toll. Both wanted to end this fight quickly and escape before the fire consumed everything, including them.
William started to bring the rifle around into a firing position, but The Eagle grabbed it by the metal barrel and pushed the weapon back towards his opponent as hard as he could.
The rifle butt caught William square in the stomach. As he started to bend over in pain, The Eagle raised his right knee until it made contact with the other man’s lower jaw.
Then the G-2 agent let go of the rifle and balled both fists together, striking them against the back of his opponent’s neck. William slumped down to the ground, totally unconscious.
The Eagle was victorious again!
Retrieving William’s rifle from where it fell, The Eagle slung it around one shoulder, and then reached down to claim the ammo belt from around his fallen foe’s waist as he reassessed his current predicament.
The bunkhouses were well on their way to becoming nothing but piles of ash, as the fire began to approach the buildings where the remaining fuel was stored.
Thinking quickly, The Eagle briefly ducked back into the building where he saw William obtain the rope.
Coming back out with a fresh line, he hogged tied William’s hands and feet together so that all his limbs were trapped behind him.
Then The Eagle hopped upon the motorcycle just long enough to bring the sidecar parallel to where his fallen opponent laid. Then he frantically began trying to move William into the attachment, for flames were starting to brush against the outer walls to the fuel storage building nearest him!
Just as he was about to attempt stuffing the unconscious henchman into the sidecar, The Eagle looked inside and saw a canteen. He was extremely grateful to feel its full weight while slinging the container over his other shoulder, but there was no time to enjoy his find right now.
In his current physical condition, the process seemed to take longer than it should have, but The Eagle finally managed to get William into the sidecar, after a fashion. The Australian’s chest was dangling over the back of the passenger opening, with his head slumped towards the rear of the attachment, but at least he was in it. Jeff Shannon refused to leave a helpless man to die if he could prevent it, even if that person was an enemy employee. Yet his moral code did not stop him from using the rest of the rope to tie William more securely to the sidecar in order to avoid any future conflicts with the man.
Hopping back on the motorcycle, The Eagle paused only long eno
ugh to secure the rifle over his shoulder and wipe the sweat from his brow again as he took a quick glance at the fuel gauge to see that the vehicle had practically a full tank of gas.
Then he revved the motorcycle back to life and started to speed away from the fire.
The transport was barely onto the access road when he heard the first explosion.
CHAPTER SIX
FIERY FINISH
The wildfire could be seen to one side as the motorcycle raced down the dirt path, but had yet to actually reach the makeshift access road itself.
The Eagle heard more explosions occur behind him as other fuel and oil barrels were consumed by the flames. He didn’t even bother looking back to see the destruction of the Restful Retreat Ranch and the end of Project: Safe Harbor. Capturing the mastermind behind it all was the only thing on his mind now.
At the junction to the main road, The Eagle had to pause. Although the two lane thoroughfare only offered the options of a left or right turn, he was uncertain which way his quarry went. While contemplating the odds; Jeff took a long, greedy drink of water from the canteen, not realizing until that moment how dehydrated he really was. With all he had been through so far today, it was the sweetest water he had ever consumed.
Then wetted fingers wiped around his eyes. The Eagle was never totally blind, but the makeshift cleaning attempt did improve his vision and lessened the stinging sensation caused by the smoke and sweat.
While securing the cap back on the canteen, Jeff realized that he had to do something to prevent inhaling any more smoke, so he took it and the rifle off only long enough to remove his jacket. With the other items back in place, Shannon tied the jacket around his neck by the sleeves and created a temporary mask that he pulled over his mouth and nose. Unfortunately The Eagle had no eye protection, but would endure whatever he must to complete his mission.
Turning the motorcycle left only because that was the way back to port, he soon saw something lying in the road ahead. The Eagle rode towards it and then idled next to the lifeless body of Jorgen Mueller. A quick look at the deceased revealed that Mueller’s neck had been broken. Meerozean, through the actions of the truck driver the Axis agent travelled with, had kept his promise of dealing with the lapse in security that lead to the discovery of Project: Safe Harbor.
Uncertain whether or not the Alvis went that way too, but having no other clue to follow, The Eagle continued to ride down the road.
He saw signs of the ongoing wildfire everywhere. The blaze had reached the edge of the road itself and was now successfully crossing the barren stretch of land in some spots. In the end, nothing and no one would be spared in this area, and Jeff wondered just how widespread the inferno was.
Otherwise, the road was deserted. The Eagle saw no sign of either evacuees or fire fighters. He presumed that both were where they needed to be, but where was his prey?
The G-2 agent grew concerned as smoke appeared ahead on the road itself. He slowed the motorcycle down and cautiously passed the burning husk that was once one of Meerozean’s trucks. Which one it was didn’t matter. Obviously somewhere in route the canvas had caught fire, and the blaze spread to the wooden stakes and base of the truck platform before the passengers were aware of their predicament.
With no sign of anyone alive in the immediate area, The Eagle continued his pursuit.
A couple of more kilometers later, he spotted a cloud of dust. Increasing speed once more, The Eagle saw the rear of the partially loaded truck. He hoped that only meant Meerozean had gone on ahead and was not travelling the other way.
The Eagle swung the rifle around so it would be more accessible as he attempted to overtake the vehicle.
***
At first, the truck driver was unaware that he was being followed. After catching up with the others, he was too late to warn his cohorts of their peril, and watched in horror as their transport exploded before his eyes. He was now in a state of shock, frantically driving in hopes of not suffering the same fate.
Catching a glimpse of the Brough motorcycle in his oversized side mirror was the first stress less moment he felt. The driver hoped William would travel alongside the truck, serving as a spotter until they either reached their destination or someplace relatively safe so they would have enough time to dump the flammable load before it was too late.
It was not until he turned to address the rider through the truck’s open window that the driver saw the rifle pointed at him and realized it was not William on the motorcycle.
“Where’s Meerozean?” shouted The Eagle.
“Who?” asked the driver.
“Your boss!” replied The Eagle, making sure he knew where the rifle was pointed.
The driver’s only response was to try and force the motorcycle off the road!
The Eagle swung wide to avoid the truck, driving the motorcycle onto what passed for the road’s dirt shoulder. He hung on to the controls with both hands, the rifle temporarily forgotten, but still with him thanks to its shoulder strap.
The rougher terrain was quite a shock compared to the road. It began to shake the motorcycle with more consequences than The Eagle was first aware of.
The violent motions were beginning to stir William back to consciousness, and continue the uncoupling of the sidecar that he had started earlier.
Still a bit groggy, a confused William moaned and, unaware of his current problems, started to ask what was going on. This distracted The Eagle long enough that he was barely able to avoid the truck driver’s second attempt at striking the motorcycle.
Quick reflexes swerved the two wheeled vehicle back onto the shoulder again, but that stretch of ground was now at a lower level than compared to earlier. The sudden jolt shook both driver and passenger as the sidecar completely detached itself from the motorcycle.
The last The Eagle could ever attest to his prisoner’s fate was William screaming as the sidecar’s momentum continued to carry it into the roaring flames.
Once more the motorcycle continued to pursue the truck, but this time The Eagle was not going to give the driver another chance to attempt running him off the road.
Being a crack shot, he balanced himself on the motorcycle and continued to drive with one hand, while bringing the rifle around with the other as he aimed for the truck’s tires.
Seeing the mirror image of what his foe was attempting, the driver began to alternate his truck between lanes. Because of this, The Eagle’s first shot missed its mark. But his second hit the driver’s side front tire just as he was swinging back in that direction.
As the truck started to skid, The Eagle didn’t hesitate to shoot the right rear tire as well. After all, not only had the driver tried to kill him twice already, but he had killed Mueller.
The truck turned over and crashed. It skidded on the driver’s side and landed in the ditch. Jeff Shannon parked parallel to the vehicle, but on the opposite side of the two lane concourse. There were still seven rounds currently left in the Lee-Enfield rifle when he climbed on to the truck and looked in the open passenger side window.
The driver was injured and pinned behind the steering wheel. His side of the truck lay against the ground. The Eagle looked through the window and asked, “Where’s your boss?”
“Help me…” pleaded the driver, as both heard an explosion.
The Eagle looked up and saw barrels from the rear of the truck scattered all over the ground. He assumed one must have rolled into the approaching fire.
“Where’s your boss?” he asked again, while pointing the rifle down at the driver.
“He rents storage space back at the port for the ranch’s shipping needs,” answered the driver, while desperately trying to free himself. “His car passed me and we’re all supposed to meet there. Now help me get out of this bloody mess!” he screamed.
The Eagle saw that the situation was dire. Even if none of the other scattered barrels were leaking, the fire was rapidly approaching their location, for the truck and its contents were new com
bustible materials to consume.
“Sadly, there’s only one thing I can do for you,” he said grimly, before firing the rifle again.
The motorcycle sped back down the road as the fire devoured the truck and its cargo.
The Eagle continued to drive, not once bothering to look back. He had done all he could, but there was still more evil to fight.
***
Once safely clear of the flaming truck, The Eagle paused only long enough to take another much needed drink and make sure the rifle was fully loaded once more.
Jeff Shannon was concerned. It was a long drive back to where he first arrived in Australia, but several kilometers had already passed with no indication of Meerozean. The Eagle was prepared to do whatever it took, and was sure his G-2 credentials would cover any problems that arose. But it was preferable that the less people who knew of his presence in this country the better, because there was still the matter he was originally summoned for to deal with when this situation was over.
As he rounded the next bend in the road, The Eagle finally spotted the Alvis!
***
Inside his car, Hans Meerozean had driven cautiously but silently, contemplating the future. He seriously doubted his Imperial Navy peers would hold recent events against him, but having never met the man, had no idea how Germany’s new Fuhrer would react.
