Chosen of the Valkyries (Twilight Of The Gods Book 2) Read Online Free Page A
Author: Christopher Nuttall
up ... and froze in horror as he saw the picture. It was ... it was unthinkable.
“Shit,” he breathed. He’d seen horror, from burned homesteads and raped women in Germany East, but this ... this was far worse. He had to swallow hard to keep his gorge from rising. “No wonder someone wanted him dead!”
“He must have taken the photographs himself,” Kuls observed. “Trying to buy this sort of shit ... it would get him killed.”
Herman looked back at the body, fighting down the urge to kick it as hard as he could. A schoolmaster with connections to the SS ... even if someone had suspected something, they would never have dared take their concerns to higher authority. The boys - his victims - would have been compromised for life. They would have known they were doomed, when he tired of them ...
... Until now. Until the SS’s power had been broken. Until they’d found the nerve to brutally murder their tormentor. Until ...
That could have been my son , he thought, numbly. Few would have dared to pick on a policeman’s child, but an SS officer - even a retired one - might have had other ideas. It could have been any of them .
He glanced at his partner. “You know what? I don’t want to find the killers.”
Kuls nodded. “I don’t think I want to find them either,” he agreed. He kicked the body savagely. “Looks like an ironclad case of suicide to me.”
Chapter Two
RAF Fairford, United Kingdom
1 September 1985
“We’ve picked up a pair of escorts, sir,” the pilot said. “Air Traffic Control is redirecting us around London.”
Andrew Barton nodded as he peered out of the window. A pair of RAF Tornados were flying near the small jet, the air-to-air missiles clearly visible under their wings. There would be others too, he knew; RAF Tornados and USAF F-15 Eagles, patrolling the English Channel and the North Sea for signs of trouble from the Reich . It wasn't likely that the Germans would cause trouble - both sides in the brewing civil war had too many other problems - but it was quite possible that a rogue officer might consider sparking a global war in hopes of using it to reunite the Reich . He would have to be out of his mind, if he thought that would actually work ...
“As long as we get there,” he said, glancing at the radar screen. “Has there been any update from the Joint Command Network?”
“Nothing,” the pilot said. “Skies are clear.”
Andrew leaned back into his seat. He’d never been a comfortable flyer, even in the jet permanently assigned to the Berlin Embassy. Indeed, he would have preferred to take the train to Dunkirk and board one of the ferries to Dover, but time was pressing. He’d been summoned to Britain and knew he couldn't disobey. Besides, the sooner he was finished in Britain, the sooner he could return to Berlin. There were too many interesting things happening in Berlin for him to want to be elsewhere.
The RAF Tornados peeled off as RAF Fairford came into view. It was a smaller airfield than the fast-jet fighter bases to the east, serving the British Government as a private airport and conference chamber - although he was fairly sure the British would have plans to turn it into a fighter base if the long-feared war between the North Atlantic Alliance and the Third Reich finally became a reality. The pilot spoke briefly to the ground, then steered the plane towards the runway. Andrew had a flash of a blue and white plane parked at the far end of the airfield before the aircraft shook, violently, as it touched the ground. He closed his eyes and kept them closed until the plane finally rumbled to a halt near a small cluster of buildings.
“I’ll be refuelling the plane while you’re gone,” the pilot said. “Do you know if we’re going to be heading straight back?”
Andrew shrugged. He’d had the impression that
“Shit,” he breathed. He’d seen horror, from burned homesteads and raped women in Germany East, but this ... this was far worse. He had to swallow hard to keep his gorge from rising. “No wonder someone wanted him dead!”
“He must have taken the photographs himself,” Kuls observed. “Trying to buy this sort of shit ... it would get him killed.”
Herman looked back at the body, fighting down the urge to kick it as hard as he could. A schoolmaster with connections to the SS ... even if someone had suspected something, they would never have dared take their concerns to higher authority. The boys - his victims - would have been compromised for life. They would have known they were doomed, when he tired of them ...
... Until now. Until the SS’s power had been broken. Until they’d found the nerve to brutally murder their tormentor. Until ...
That could have been my son , he thought, numbly. Few would have dared to pick on a policeman’s child, but an SS officer - even a retired one - might have had other ideas. It could have been any of them .
He glanced at his partner. “You know what? I don’t want to find the killers.”
Kuls nodded. “I don’t think I want to find them either,” he agreed. He kicked the body savagely. “Looks like an ironclad case of suicide to me.”
Chapter Two
RAF Fairford, United Kingdom
1 September 1985
“We’ve picked up a pair of escorts, sir,” the pilot said. “Air Traffic Control is redirecting us around London.”
Andrew Barton nodded as he peered out of the window. A pair of RAF Tornados were flying near the small jet, the air-to-air missiles clearly visible under their wings. There would be others too, he knew; RAF Tornados and USAF F-15 Eagles, patrolling the English Channel and the North Sea for signs of trouble from the Reich . It wasn't likely that the Germans would cause trouble - both sides in the brewing civil war had too many other problems - but it was quite possible that a rogue officer might consider sparking a global war in hopes of using it to reunite the Reich . He would have to be out of his mind, if he thought that would actually work ...
“As long as we get there,” he said, glancing at the radar screen. “Has there been any update from the Joint Command Network?”
“Nothing,” the pilot said. “Skies are clear.”
Andrew leaned back into his seat. He’d never been a comfortable flyer, even in the jet permanently assigned to the Berlin Embassy. Indeed, he would have preferred to take the train to Dunkirk and board one of the ferries to Dover, but time was pressing. He’d been summoned to Britain and knew he couldn't disobey. Besides, the sooner he was finished in Britain, the sooner he could return to Berlin. There were too many interesting things happening in Berlin for him to want to be elsewhere.
The RAF Tornados peeled off as RAF Fairford came into view. It was a smaller airfield than the fast-jet fighter bases to the east, serving the British Government as a private airport and conference chamber - although he was fairly sure the British would have plans to turn it into a fighter base if the long-feared war between the North Atlantic Alliance and the Third Reich finally became a reality. The pilot spoke briefly to the ground, then steered the plane towards the runway. Andrew had a flash of a blue and white plane parked at the far end of the airfield before the aircraft shook, violently, as it touched the ground. He closed his eyes and kept them closed until the plane finally rumbled to a halt near a small cluster of buildings.
“I’ll be refuelling the plane while you’re gone,” the pilot said. “Do you know if we’re going to be heading straight back?”
Andrew shrugged. He’d had the impression that
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