by Jon F. Merz
“That’s taking it down,” said the instructor. “Piece of piss. Nicely done.” He clapped Thatcher on the back. “We’ll make a saboteur out of you yet.” He nodded back toward the main house. “Right, run along, I think someone’s come up to have quick word with you.”
Thatcher glanced back in the direction of the mansion house which had been converted to a barracks for the trainees of this course, albeit a very luxurious barracks indeed. Meals were cooked from whatever game roamed wildly across the hundreds of acres that was owned by the family so Thatcher had been eating quite well, feasting on quail, deer, and even wild boar. But if they ate well, the DS - directing staff - made sure they also worked it all off with early morning runs and “beastings” - exhausting bouts of exercise and calisthenics. Then there was the hand-to-hand combat and knife fighting that they worked hard to drill into Thatcher. Firearms were also of paramount concern so every afternoon was spent live firing on the ranges they had built.
It was an impressive place and Thatcher took off at a slow jog meandering down the paths until he emerged from the woods and came abreast of the manicured lawns. In a pinch, the lawns could double as runways for a squadron of fighters and short range bombers. But right now, the hundreds of yards of green reminded Thatcher of some of the estate he had grown up back in the States. And yet, here he was in the midst of a war that wasn’t even sanctioned as yet by his home nation.
He wondered if that made him a traitor or not? He couldn’t figure out if fighting for a friend was some sort of crime. In any event, he was already a convicted criminal so what difference did it make?
He had been sleeping better than he’d expected as well. Thatcher felt certain immediately afterward that his sleeping hours would be plagued by dreams of Cyra and her last evil stare at Thatcher as she had been sucked beneath the waves. Yet despite that memory of her, Thatcher had been able to compartmentalize it and move on. Even the doctors who asked him about the mission as part of his training now seemed perfectly content with Thatcher’s ability to rationalize what he had done as necessary to ensuring he lived to communicate some of the things he had discovered in the midst of the operation.
Hewitt stood about a hundred yards away, dressed as if he was out for a brief holiday in the countryside. He had a pipe in his mouth which Thatcher thought fit him rather well, although he felt certain Hewitt would have preferred a stiff measure of brandy rather than a smoking pipe.
Thatcher slowed to a trot aware that he no longer sweated profusely as he did upon first arriving here. The runs were not as taxing now that his body had grown accustomed to the physical training. He had also packed on some decent muscles which he did not mind seeing reflected back when he looked in the mirror.
“Looking rather fit, aren’t you?”
Thatcher slowed to a walk now and shook hands with Hewitt. “Thanks. The training seems to suit me.”
“Indeed,” said Hewitt. “I’ve heard good things about you from all the DS here, including the doctors who have been probing those inner recesses of your mind to see if they could discover whether you have the sort of stuff that we like in our agents.”
“They were wondering if I carried any guilt from what I did,” said Thatcher. “And the truth is, I don’t. It was a matter of priorities, I guess. Plus, I didn’t want to allow you the satisfaction of having me die on the operation. I figured the least I could do was survive and make your life miserable for a little while longer.”
Hewitt chuckled. “I probably deserved that, didn’t I?”
“You always like rescuing the condemned and sending them off on suicide missions?”
Hewitt shrugged. “The Department of Sacrificial Lambs. What do you think of the name?”
“Sounds horrible,” said Thatcher. “Is that what we are?”
“Until I find some more wayward souls with nothing else to lose,” said Hewitt. “I don’t suppose you’ve got any friends about to be executed that I could offer a job to, have you?”
“I appear to be fresh out,” said Thatcher. “Besides, this job has crap for perks. And the pay isn’t much, either.”
Hewitt held up his hand. “Now, now, that’s not entirely fair.” He handed Thatcher an envelope.
Thatcher took it and opened it. Inside was a bank note showing a very sizable deposit had been made at a bank in London in his name. Thatcher looked up at Hewitt. “Is that really mine?”
Hewitt nodded. “Indeed it is. From a grateful Crown for your service. With Raider X out of the way, you’ve saved countless tonnes of shipping. It was felt that appropriate renumeration was definitely in order. Plus, the extra intelligence you were able to supply was also deemed invaluable to our war effort.”
“Thank you,” said Thatcher. He paused as they started walking along the gravel foot path. “Did you know?”
“About what?”
“Adamson. That he was a Nazi spy?”
Hewitt smiled. “I wasn’t running him, if that’s what you mean. He was an SIS agent. He’d been instrumental in sending disinformation to the Nazis. His loss will be felt dearly. We have no idea what Schwarzwalder would have done if he’d been able to connect with him. There’s some thought that we might have been able to turn him as well, but I’m not so sure.”
“Neither am I,” said Thatcher. “Schwarzwalder was a principled man. He cared more for his family than whatever government he worked for. But he would have tried to find a way down the middle where he could help Adamson without sacrificing his family.”
Hewitt shook his head. “That way never works, unfortunately. You can’t walk a fine line in the middle when you’re caught between opposing forces. Only fools and cowards think that is the best way. Sooner or later, you’ll have to take a side.” Hewitt stopped walking and looked up at Thatcher. “Speaking of which: have you decided yet?”
“Decided what?”
“On whether you’ll take a side or not?” Hewitt lit a match to his pipe and breathed in, stoking the tobacco within the bowl until it glowed red and a halo of smoke issued out of it.
“I would have thought it was readily apparent by now,” said Thatcher. “I didn’t vanish when I had the chance to.”
It was true. After being picked up by the fishing boat in Tenerife, Thatcher could have easily made his way back to the mainland and ended up in either Portugal or Spain. He evaded the Gestapo waiting at the harbor and managed to secrete himself aboard a merchant ship plying the waters under a neutral flag between the Canary Islands and the African mainland. Once in Morocco, he snuck aboard another ship bound for Lisbon and there, he headed right for the British Embassy who tucked him away on a plane and flew him back to England at first light.
Hewitt puffed on his pipe. “If it makes any difference, I never would have kidnapped your aunt.”
Thatcher nodded. “It does, actually. Thank you.”
Hewitt started walking again, his feet crunching the gravel underneath. Thatcher fell into step beside him. “So…what’s next?”
“What’s next is you finish your training here. That’s imperative. I can’t send you out again unless you have the prerequisite skills needed by someone in the field. If Schwarzwalder hadn’t aided you in demolishing Raider X, I don’t know that you would have been able to do it with your makeshift skills.”
“But I now have the skills,” said Thatcher.
“They need refinement,” said Hewitt. “You nearly obliterated that poor pine tree a while back.”
“You saw that?”
Hewitt said nothing but just chuckled as he puffed some more. Finally, he took the pipe out of his mouth. “After much debate, it has been decided that your next outing should be to confirm the existence of what Cyra told you. Namely the laboratory that seems to be modifying people and turning them into some sort of super soldier.”
“Poland,” said Thatcher.
“Indeed,” said Hewitt.
“How long do I have?”
Hewitt checked his watch. “A few days. No more. Tim
e is of the essence. We can’t have super soldiers running around decimating our boys on the battlefield. That simply will not do.”
“It’s going to be dangerous,” said Thatcher.
“Extremely so,” agreed Hewitt.
“The Department of Sacrificial Lambs, huh?”
Hewitt shrugged. “It’s just a name. So try not to live up to it will you?”
And with that, he spun on his heel and started back toward the mansion house. Thatcher stood there for another moment with a smile on his face before following after him.
Harrison Thatcher will return in
THE EICHERT FORMULA
Coming soon!
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About the Author
Jon F. Merz is the author of over 50 novels ranging from urban fantasy to espionage and sword & sorcery fantasy. Prior to becoming a full-time writer Jon served in the United States Air Force, protected a variety of Fortune 500 executives, and taught defensive tactics to government agencies like the State Department, Bureau of Prisons, and others. He is an active CrossFitter, a 5th degree black belt in Togakure-ryu Ninjutsu, enjoys doing GORUCK challenges, and in 2014 started acting (starring in The Cars That Made America on History Channel and in the new scifi feature film MOTHER/ANDROID) He lives each and every day by the motto, “Who Dares Lives.” He and his wife Joyce (who runs the hugely popular food blog The Tasty Page) live with their two sons in suburban Boston.
Connect with Jon!
www.jonfmerz.net
[email protected]
The Lawson Vampire Series
1. The Fixer: A Lawson Vampire Novel
2. The Invoker: A Lawson Vampire Novel
3. The Destructor: A Lawson Vampire Novel
4. The Syndicate: A Lawson Vampire Novel
5. The Price of a Good Drink: A Lawson Vampire Story
6. The Courier: A Lawson Vampire Mission
7. The Kensei: A Lawson Vampire Novel
8. Enemy Mine: A Lawson Vampire Story
9. The Ripper: A Lawson Vampire Novel
10. Rudolf The Red Nosed Rogue: A Lawson Vampire Story
11. Interlude: A Lawson Vampire Story
12. The Shepherd: A Lawson Vampire Mission
13. Red Tide: A Lawson Vampire Story
14. Frosty The Hitman: A Lawson Vampire Story
15. A Fog Of Fury: A Lawson Vampire Mission
16. Invitation to Dance: A Lawson Vampire Story
17. The Crucible: A Lawson Vampire Novel
18. Oathbreaker: A Lawson Vampire Story
19. Do You Kill What I Kill? A Lawson Vampire Story
20. Incident at Palmyra: A Lawson Vampire Mission
21. Lady of the Dead: A Lawson Vampire Mission
22. A Forced Disappearance: A Lawson Vampire Mission
23. Here Comes Santa Claus: A Lawson Vampire Story
24. The Succubus: A Lawson Vampire Novel
25. The Koryo Escort: A Lawson Vampire Mission
26. Daughter of Night: A Lawson Vampire Mission
27. Roll-Up: A Lawson Vampire Story
28. The Arcanum: A Lawson Vampire Novel
29. The Bakeneko: A Lawson Vampire Story
30. Let It Blow, Let It Blow, Let It Blow: A Lawson Vampire Story
31. Ghost Work: A Lawson Vampire Mission
32. The Specialist: A Lawson Vampire Story
33. A Deadly Silence: A Lawson Vampire Story
34. The Estranged: A Lawson Vampire Story
35. ’Tis The Treason
The Lawson Vampire Origins Series
1. Dead Drop: A Lawson Vampire Origins Story
2. The Enchanter: A Lawson Vampire Origins Novel
3. The Cairo Connection: A Lawson Vampire Origins Mission
4. Mission: Malta: A Lawson Vampire Origins Mission
5. Have Yourself A Deadly Little Christmas: A Lawson Vampire Origins Story
6. The Infiltrator: A Lawson Vampire Origins Mission
7. Killing Around The Christmas Tree: A Lawson Vampire Origins Story
8. Ghost In The Machine: A Lawson Vampire Origins Story
9. The Snitch Who Stole Christmas: A Lawson Vampire Origins Story
Also by Jon F. Merz
The Harrison Thatcher Series
Raider X
The Eichert Formula (coming soon)
The Ninja Apprentice Series
The Lost Scrolls of Fudo Shin
The Tsuba of Kotogawa
Hand of the Yakuza
The Death Master Series
Black Widow Rising
Dark Incelebration
The Zombie Ryu Series
Torn Asunder
Memories
The Shadow Warrior Series
The Undead Hordes of Kan-Gul
Slavers of the Savage Catacombs
Temple of Demons (coming soon)
The Rogue Angel Series (as Alex Archer)
Warrior Spirit
Soul Stealer
Polar Quest
Sacrifice
Footprints
Sacred Ground
Phantom Prospect
False Horizon
The Oracle’s Message
Labyrinth
Fury’s Goddess
Standalone Books
Parallax
Vicarious
Danger-Close: A Jake Thunder Adventure
Prey
This Time of Night (collection)
And many more books & stories at Jon’s website!
https://www.jonfmerz.net/all-on-one
