Code Name: Infamy (Aviator Book 4) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Leland Shanle
making eye contact. “They probably made him watch …”
“Nice,” hissed Koch.
“That would explain why the orderly is terrified of our uniforms, but why did no one else hear it?”
Koch reached in his pocket and pulled out a one-inch-by-four-inch cylinder. “Silencer.”
Spike was quiet. It still didn’t add up. He glanced at his watch; time was now dictating terms, not him. He stood silently for a few more seconds and then spoke softly. “Obviously things have deteriorated worse than we anticipated. Regardless, we must get back on our time line. Do we have transportation?”
“Two trucks and the field marshal’s staff car. Keys were in the trucks, and I found the staff car keys when I searched the orderly.”
“Roger that. Muster the action element. Put three men on the gate, two standing guard in front of the terminal and one at the hangar. We need to make it look like this is an SS base; that will keep stragglers away.”
“The orderly?” asked Koch.
“Tie his ass up; he’s not a threat.”
JT was trying to sleep on one of the wooden troop benches in the back of the C-47. Irish was growing restless and finally asked, “So what are we supposed to do?”
“I suspect since neither of us speak German, we are to stay out of sight and shut the hell up.”
Irish continued to gruff as they heard the vehicles drive away.
Major Shanower, in an SS colonel’s uniform, and Colonel Gerhardt were in the back seat of the staff car. Up front were two of the rangers, one driving and one riding shotgun, literally. Two more were on the running boards of the Mercedes, one on each side. Within a few minutes they caught up with a group of refugees, their surprised faces lit by the sweep of the headlights before they turned and ran for the woods.
Koch was in the passenger seat in the lead truck, four of his men were in the bed, and another five were in the second truck. He leaned forward watching as the car ahead swerved suddenly. “Look out!” he yelled. His corporal yanked the steering wheel to the left to avoid the body Wolf had left in the road. He bumped his shoulder up against the closed window and felt it slide against the pane of glass as the tires struggled for traction on the blood-slicked road. “What’s on this window?” He pulled away and brushed at his shoulder. Koch flipped on his flashlight revealing dried blood and brain matter.
“Oh, geez. Lieutenant, what is wrong with these people?” He wiped his hand on the seat and shuddered.
“It’s coming apart at the very core, Tommy. This is what it looks like when a civilization dissolves. We need to grab these scientists and get the hell out of Dodge.”
05:54 Local, 7 May, 1945 (03:54 GMT, 7MAY)
French West Africa
Brilliant swaths of pink, orange, and blue lit the eastern sky over Tenere Desert. Watching from the left seat of the Condor, the aircraft commander drank in its beauty as his co-pilot sipped coffee. Wolf interrupted their tranquility.
“Descend to treetop level.”
“Jawohl.” As an experienced aircraft commander, Hauptmann Franz Klammer was not used to such close direction, but he had no intention of crossing the SS general. Or pointing out they were over one of the biggest deserts on the planet, and thus there were no trees. He was no fool. He knew the end was very near for Germany; the distance he flew between eastern and western fronts had been drastically decreasing for months. After Wolf left the cockpit, Franz snapped off an exaggerated Nazi salute. His co-pilot spewed coffee all over the instrument panel.
06:12 Local, 7 May, 194 (04:12 GMT, 7MAY)
Heereswaffenamt Kernphysik Command Ohrdruf, Germany
A sentry squinted into the low rising sun as he held up his hand. “Halt!”
Spike stood abruptly in the open staff car, leaning toward the sentry, who instinctively backed away. “Achtung! Where is your commanding officer?”
The sergeant of the guard looked up from his paperwork,
“Nice,” hissed Koch.
“That would explain why the orderly is terrified of our uniforms, but why did no one else hear it?”
Koch reached in his pocket and pulled out a one-inch-by-four-inch cylinder. “Silencer.”
Spike was quiet. It still didn’t add up. He glanced at his watch; time was now dictating terms, not him. He stood silently for a few more seconds and then spoke softly. “Obviously things have deteriorated worse than we anticipated. Regardless, we must get back on our time line. Do we have transportation?”
“Two trucks and the field marshal’s staff car. Keys were in the trucks, and I found the staff car keys when I searched the orderly.”
“Roger that. Muster the action element. Put three men on the gate, two standing guard in front of the terminal and one at the hangar. We need to make it look like this is an SS base; that will keep stragglers away.”
“The orderly?” asked Koch.
“Tie his ass up; he’s not a threat.”
JT was trying to sleep on one of the wooden troop benches in the back of the C-47. Irish was growing restless and finally asked, “So what are we supposed to do?”
“I suspect since neither of us speak German, we are to stay out of sight and shut the hell up.”
Irish continued to gruff as they heard the vehicles drive away.
Major Shanower, in an SS colonel’s uniform, and Colonel Gerhardt were in the back seat of the staff car. Up front were two of the rangers, one driving and one riding shotgun, literally. Two more were on the running boards of the Mercedes, one on each side. Within a few minutes they caught up with a group of refugees, their surprised faces lit by the sweep of the headlights before they turned and ran for the woods.
Koch was in the passenger seat in the lead truck, four of his men were in the bed, and another five were in the second truck. He leaned forward watching as the car ahead swerved suddenly. “Look out!” he yelled. His corporal yanked the steering wheel to the left to avoid the body Wolf had left in the road. He bumped his shoulder up against the closed window and felt it slide against the pane of glass as the tires struggled for traction on the blood-slicked road. “What’s on this window?” He pulled away and brushed at his shoulder. Koch flipped on his flashlight revealing dried blood and brain matter.
“Oh, geez. Lieutenant, what is wrong with these people?” He wiped his hand on the seat and shuddered.
“It’s coming apart at the very core, Tommy. This is what it looks like when a civilization dissolves. We need to grab these scientists and get the hell out of Dodge.”
05:54 Local, 7 May, 1945 (03:54 GMT, 7MAY)
French West Africa
Brilliant swaths of pink, orange, and blue lit the eastern sky over Tenere Desert. Watching from the left seat of the Condor, the aircraft commander drank in its beauty as his co-pilot sipped coffee. Wolf interrupted their tranquility.
“Descend to treetop level.”
“Jawohl.” As an experienced aircraft commander, Hauptmann Franz Klammer was not used to such close direction, but he had no intention of crossing the SS general. Or pointing out they were over one of the biggest deserts on the planet, and thus there were no trees. He was no fool. He knew the end was very near for Germany; the distance he flew between eastern and western fronts had been drastically decreasing for months. After Wolf left the cockpit, Franz snapped off an exaggerated Nazi salute. His co-pilot spewed coffee all over the instrument panel.
06:12 Local, 7 May, 194 (04:12 GMT, 7MAY)
Heereswaffenamt Kernphysik Command Ohrdruf, Germany
A sentry squinted into the low rising sun as he held up his hand. “Halt!”
Spike stood abruptly in the open staff car, leaning toward the sentry, who instinctively backed away. “Achtung! Where is your commanding officer?”
The sergeant of the guard looked up from his paperwork,
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