The Collectors Book Five (The Collectors Series 5) Read Online Free

fireman’s making tea, sir, fancy a cup?”
    He clambered into the cab, amazed he was so calm. “The best offer I’ve had all day.”
    Brock handed him a large chipped enamel mug. “Sorry about the mug but the good stuff doesn’t survive for long on the footplate.”
    “It’s hot and sweet, Sergeant. Out of interest, how did you manage to find sugar?”
    “I’d rather not say, sir.”
    “It doesn’t matter. Oh, we’ll be stopping in a valley I’ve chosen, at dusk.”
    “Can you tell me where, sir?”
    Berg took out his rail map and pointed. “In the centre of this valley.”
    “Can I make a suggestion, sir?”
    “Of course.”
    “Stop at this end. If we have to leave in a hurry, it’s downhill. I understand it’s easier to hold the high ground.”
    Berg smiled. “I stand corrected. I should have spoken to you first. Who knows this line better than you?”
    Brock tapped one of the steam gauges. “The team’s coming back. Time to go.” He pulled the levers and adjusted a few valve wheels. The squeal of metal on metal filled their ears as they picked up speed.
    Three more bridges proved clear and they reached the hill overlooking the valley as the sun set.
    Berg, his uniform and face covered in black dust, jumped from the cab and stretched. He glanced at his watch before walking to the first manned wagon. “Lieutenant.”
    A young, fresh-faced officer scrambled off the wagon, tugged his uniform jacket into shape, and saluted.  
    “Your men will take the first duty. Set up a perimeter guard at a thousand metres. Patrols are to consist of three armed soldiers. No lights and your men will be relieved in two hours. Spread the word to the next troop carrier until the night guard is covered. Send one of your men back along the track with a red lamp and stop the next train at a thousand metres.” Berg glanced along the train. “Where’s the sergeant in charge of the explosives team?”
    “He and his men are sleeping, sir.”
    “Well don’t stand there, go and wake them.”
    The lieutenant saluted, attempted to turn right but his feet slipped on the gravel.
    Idiot, thought Berg, but thank God rank hath its privilege. At least I can wash and relax in the passenger car. He shouted at Brock who leant out of the cab. “We start again at sunrise.”
    “Yes, Major. The train will be ready. Potatoes are cooking on the fire. Do you want one?”
    “How long before they’re ready?”
    “Twenty minutes.”
    “Save me one.”
    “Yes, Major.”
    “Sergeant Lubbock reporting as ordered, Major.”
    “Sergeant, you will split your team and with full packs march to the next bridge. One group will check for explosives and set watch overnight. Group two, will continue onto the next, and repeat the procedure. We will slow the train and pick you up as we pass in the morning.”
    The sergeant stood motionless as he accepted the order, saluted and strolled back to his men. “No fucking sleep,” he muttered before bawling at his squad.
    In the distance, Berg listened to the screech of brakes. The second train had arrived. At a brisk pace, he strode along the track.
    In ten minutes, he relayed his orders to Major Zimmerman.
    “And what is the Colonel doing?”
    “Not a lot,” Berg said. “We leave at dawn. See you tomorrow night.”
    Zimmerman walloped him on the back. “We will be closer to Germany. I look forward to seeing my children again.”
    The night remained uneventful. As the morning glow of the sun climbed over the mountains, Berg slapped the sergeant on the shoulder. “Time to go.”
    Sergeant Brock opened the throttle on the idling train and they sped into Macedonia. The prior examination of the first two bridges saved time as they raced north.
    Captain Spee made his first report of the day to the general who nodded and waved him away.
    “Sergeant, why are we slowing?”
    “Sir,” he waved his arms at the tree-covered slopes and the deep gorge to the right of the train “This line follows the