Alex Scarrow - Time Riders

We’re going to die if we don’t take those men .

He looked across the hallway to where Karl was crouched. Their eyes met. The man nodded,knowing what Kramer was thinking. A faint smile slipped across his face as he slapped in afresh cartridge and racked his pulse rifle ready for action.

The other men around Karl took his lead, quickly reloading their weapons and then readyingthemselves to burst out into the open and sprint the length of the hallway under fire.

Silently Karl mouthed a countdown, turning back to his men, encouraging them with a finaldevil-may-care grin that told the mercenaries they were going to succeed or die heroes.

Five… four … three… two… one…

They emerged from their covered positions as one, laying down a withering barrage ofrapid-fire high-impact shots that filled the air around the table with a blizzard of chippedfragments and marble powder.

They ran forward, still firing, ten yards… five yards…

Kramer followed in their wake. He found himself screaming like a banshee.

Karl was the first to reach the overturned table, crashing heavily into it. He swiftly pokedhis rifle over the top and sprayed the SS guards sheltering behind it point blank with asustained burst until his pulse rifle clacked like a woodpecker, exhausted of ammo.

Rudy and Sven joined him, emptying their clips blindly over the top of the table into thespace behind it.

Then all of a sudden it was as silent as a graveyard.

The smoke and dust cleared around them and Kramer, gingerly lifting his head to look over thetop, saw the men dead on the floor, an unpleasant mash of flayed flesh, splintered bone andtattered black ceremonial uniforms.

In the distance, muted through the thick stone walls of the chalet, he could hear the rapidtap of gunfire from the front of the building.

The garrison’s here already.We’re out of time.

Karl clambered over the table and aimed a swift, hard kick at the oakwood double doors. Theyrattled heavily and swung inwards.

Karl led the way in.

As he stepped through, a single pistol shot echoed across the grand room and a solitary shardof wood flung off the oak door beside his head.

Rudy, stepping in beside him, swung his weapon round and emptied half adozen shots into a portly looking Wehrmacht general with braids on his shoulders, throwing himback across a grand banqueting table covered with maps and scattered typed pages ofintelligence notes and field deployments. The general rolled off the side of the table andthudded heavily on to the floor.

Kramer stepped into the room, slowly scanning the sweat-soaked faces cowering behindarmchairs and coffee tables. Generals and field marshals — so much gold braiding, somany medals pinned to their chests — and yet here they were looking very much like aclass of startled children. His eyes finally rested on a trembling man in a tan-coloured tunicwith a dark fringe drooping over one eye, and his distinct toothbrush moustache.

Unmistakably… it was the very man they were after.

Hitler was crouching on the floor holding an ineffective-looking pistol in his shaking hand.As the sound of the distant gunfight around the Berghof’s entrance grew more insistent,Kramer took a step forward.

‘Adolf Hitler,’ he said in fluent German, ‘your plans to attack Russia inthe next few weeks will result in you losing this war.’

Hitler’s eyes widened, his lips flickered and tensed, but he said nothing.

‘Now, if you want to win this war, if you want detailed intelligence of what yourenemies are doing right now, if you want weapons technology that will make you invincible-’ he nodded back down the hallway, at the growing cacophony of approachinggunfire — ‘then I suggest you call off those men outside and listen very closely to what I have to tell you.’

2001, New York

Maddy walked alongside Foster as they crossed the Williamsburg Bridge back over theHudson River to Brooklyn. In the darkness, the lights of the city danced on the watermagically.

‘It really is a beautiful city,’ she said.

Foster nodded. ‘Tonight is special,’ he said. ‘I always think of thisevening as the last one of the “old” New York. Tomorrow, when those two planesarrive, it’ll change.’

They walked in silence for a while, watching the others ahead. Sal and Liam seemed to beteasing Bob, laughing at the stiff, unnatural way he talked. There’s no harm in that,she supposed. Bob needed to sound a lot more like a human if he was going to blend in,particularly if he was going to be sent alongside Liam on assignments back into the past.

She noticed the old man was looking a little frailer than he had when he’d pulled herout of that plane. He rarely seemed to sleep. Almost every night, after they’d alltucked themselves up into their cots, she heard the archway’s door creak open.

‘Where do you go at night?’

He looked at her.

She shrugged. ‘I hear you sneaking out.’

‘I walk around Brooklyn.’ He smiled. ‘I clear my head. The fresh air doesme some good.’

She studied him silently for a moment. ‘Are you OK, Foster?’she asked.

Foster took his time replying. ‘You’ve noticed, then?’ he saideventually.

‘I’m not sure what you mean.’

‘That I’m dying,’ he said quietly.

‘What?’

He looked at her. ‘I figured you would’ve worked it out soon enough.’

‘Actually, I was just thinking you weren’t looking too well… that’sall.’

He smiled again. ‘That’s kind of you. But, in fact, I’m dying… veryquickly as it happens.’

‘What’s… what’s wrong? Do you need a doctor?’

‘No, it wouldn’t help,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘This is something you need to know, Maddy,’ he said, grasping her forearm.‘You can’t tell the others right now. Particularly not Liam.’

‘What?’

Foster took a deep breath. ‘It kills you, eventually.’

‘What does?’

‘Timeriding,’ he replied, ‘going into the past. It only has a gradualeffect at first — so gradual he won’t notice to begin with. But the more he doesit, the further back he goes, the greater the harm he’ll be doing to his body. Theprocess will gradually corrupt the cells in his body, prematurely ageing him.’

She looked at him, alarmed.

‘Yes… ageing him. At first it won’t beapparent. But towards the end, when the corruption has reached a certain level, he willsuddenly age fast.’

A thought occurred to her — a question she didn’t want to ask, but knew she hadto. ‘So, Foster, could I ask you — ?’

‘You want to know how old I really am?’

She nodded.

He shook his head sadly and she thought she saw the glisten of a tear nestling in the deepwrinkled fold beneath one eye.

‘I was pretty young when I made my first trip.’

‘And now?’

‘If I add up all the Mondays and Tuesdays I’ve served in that fieldoffice,’ he said, running a hand through his fine snow-white hair, ‘I supposeI’d be about twenty-seven now.’

Maddy covered her gasp with a hand. ‘Oh God…’

He managed a wry smile. ‘About ten years older than you. Although inside I still feelyoung, I’ve become an old man,’ he said, his voice tapering off with the sound ofregret, even bitterness in there somewhere. ‘He can’t know, Maddy,’ headded. ‘Not yet… He’s not ready.’

‘But it’s unfair that he doesn’t know what this is doing to hisbody!’

Foster raised a finger to his lips. Even above the noise of traffic rumbling past them overthe busy bridge, her voice might just carry enough for him to hear.

‘He has no choice, Madelaine. Either he does this or he has to return to the Titanic . At least this way he gets another seven or eight years oflife.’