Robert Williams - Ice Fortress

“Move,” the man ordered with his gun raised to smash Jack in the face again if he didn’t comply.

Jack slipped off the table and stood with the others. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll find out soon enough, now get moving,” the other guard poked the captain in the ribs with his gun, urging him toward the control room.

A large acorn shaped object sat on the dock alongside the U-Boat. The black plastic that shrouded the 9 foot tall cargo clung tightly enough for the underlying shape to be unmistakable.

“Well fuck me sideways,” Jack whispered to himself as they were herded past the veiled bell shape. “ That’s what they sent me here to snatch.” Pity they didn’t send a few more men, he thought to himself.

All six of them were shepherded onto the low concrete wet-dock to which the German U-Boat was tied.

Jack saw Sam standing on the deck of the U-Boat, near the open torpedo loading hatch. One eye was swollen and he looked spent but other than that he appeared unharmed as he moved over to join them. As he jumped from the deck to the dock, Jack noticed that his hands too had been cuffed, his sheer size and strength had painted him as a threat.

“This isn’t good, Jack,” he said quietly so only Jack could hear him. “I’ve heard them talking. These wackjobs are fucking Nazis . Can you believe that?” he hissed.

“Actually, now you mention it, that kind of makes perfect sense in a weird way.” Jack nodded slowly as his covert op wheels began to turn and he started to put things together. The accents, the weapons, the U-Boat, the U-Boat captain’s log, that bell thing. Not to mention their time travel discussion.

“It’s worse than that, Bluey. Way worse than that.” Jack shook his head solemnly.

“What do we do?” Sam pleaded for guidance.

“If this is all heading to where I think it is, we have to save the world, Bluey. We don’t have any choice. It’s up to us to save the world.”

“Hey, bullet-head, how about doing something about these cuffs? I’m gonna get gangrene like this.” Jack held up his swollen, discolored hands for the man to see.

Bullet-head came at him, his face a mask of anger and brutality, buttstock raised to strike. Jack bent at the knees, shifted his weight slightly and launched himself low and hard at the bullet-headed prick. With an oomph the man collapsed on the deck the wind knocked out of him by a well-placed shoulder to the solar plexus.

The second guard came in fast, gun up and shoved Jack out of the way. But Jack didn’t budge and the guard ended up locked in a tackle until finally Jack moved back to Sam’s position and let the two guards regroup.

“I ought to put a bullet in you right now for that little stunt… but I won’t.” The tight lipped smile on his face told Jack that something far worse than a bullet in the brain was on the cards.

“That worked really well. Thanks Jack, we’re so much better off now,” Sam sassed.

Jack opened his hands surreptitiously, revealing the cutters the guard used to snip his ankle restraints a short while ago.

Sam’s brows arched. “I think we’re gonna need more than a pair of pliers to get out of this one, MacGyver.”

“One thing at a time, Bluey. One thing at a time.”

“If we’re gonna end up dead in the next few hours, could you at least try calling me by my real name? My Mom made a real effort to choose it for me, the least you could do is try using it, just once in a while.”

“I thought you were an orphan? Didn’t some government pencil pusher pluck your name out of a hat or something?”

“Nice, Jack. That’s real nice. You ought to ask for a refund if we survive this.”

“What refund?” Jack quizzed.

“For that ‘How to Win Friends and Influence People’ seminar. Get your money back. It’s not work—”

A giant shadow cast over them.

Muller.

Jack didn’t even need to turn to see the hulk of a man. He could feel him.

“Enough talk,” Muller directed from behind them. His bulk blocked out much of the light from the Barracuda, casting a shadow that left Jack feeling unsettled. “You have the rest of your lives to chat among yourselves,” he sniggered. His peculiar accent unnerved Jack even more. He really didn’t like this guy.

“Where are the other six hostiles?” hissed Jack to Sam.

“Below decks in the U-Boat, like I told you, it’s not good. I think they’re…”

Jack didn’t let him continue. “I couldn’t care less what they’re doing. I just need to know where they are.”

Jack edged his way toward Jameson, whose hands remained unrestrained. The German militia didn’t seem to rate a nuclear submarine captain as much of a threat. Or he was one of them? Jack didn’t even want to think about that. He had his suspicions about Durand, too.

“Got a plan Coulson?” The captain knew Jack well enough to guess that he did.

Turning his back to Muller and the other guards, Jack palmed the cutters to Jameson. “Cut me loose.”

Snip .

“Cut Sam free as soon as it starts.”

“As soon as what starts?” asked Jameson.

“Don’t worry, you’ll know.”

Muller slowly made his way toward the group, staying clear of the line of fire between them and his men. Jack kept his hands together, holding the cuffs in place and appearing to still be in discomfort. Every detail had to be just right.

Bullet-head still looked pissed at having been taken down by an unarmed man. A handcuffed one at that.

Perfect.

“How’re you feeling bullet-head? Want to get crash tackled again for old times’ sake?”

“Scheisse!” Bullet-head’s face turned red as he pushed his way through the group to where Jack stood. His gun was raised, not as a club this time, but ready to shoot. Jack heard the safety click off.

When he was a few feet away, Jack let go of the cuffs and moved to intercept, closing the gap between them before the guard could draw a bead on him and fire.

The man’s finger was already on the trigger and ready to fire. But the trigger guard was oversized to accommodate gloves, which the guards had taken off in the warmth of the submarine. Jack slid his finger inside the guard, piggy backing the soldier’s finger and aimed the gun at the other guard. A body shot would be a waste of time. They were all still wearing body armor.

A three round burst from the H&K turned the guards head into an explosive mist of blood and skull fragments. The bullets tore his head off before the sound waves from the gun even reached his ears. The man was dead before he knew he was even in danger.

Leah was the nearest to the fallen guard. Her hair a gruesome sight, matted with clotted blood and chunks of brain matter.

Jack turned the struggling bullet-headed guard to bring Muller into his sights. In his peripheral vision he could see Durand shuffling slowly toward the dead guard, his eyes locked on the nearest weapon — a holstered semi-automatic pistol. Jack knew there was something not quite right about that guy.

Breaking ranks, Leah swooped down and grabbed the man’s weapon before Durand could make his move. That was unexpected. Backup from cute Oceanographer. She had his six.

Muller’s arms were raised. His H&K clattered loudly on the hard concrete. Also unexpected. He was sure this monster of a man would have gone down with guns blazing.