Alex Scarrow: Time Riders

Beneath the thin material of his SS uniform, he shivered. ‘Jay-zus, it’s bloodyf-f-freezing,’ he hissed under his breath, sending a plume of condensation out beforehim. ‘Glad we’re not just wearing wet p-pants right now. Hang on, isn’t thatgoing to cause a contamination problem?’

‘Acceptable level of contamination at this point,’ replied Bob. ‘We willreturn with our clothes.’ He stopped mid-stride for a moment, consulting data in hishead. ‘Information: two hundred yards ahead is the road leading to the Eagle’sNest.’

‘Right.’

‘Recommendation: we attempt to acquire better weapons and appropriate clothing anddisguise.’

Liam nodded eagerly at the suggestion of appropriate clothing.

The support unit led the way, pushing through the wood’s undergrowth,dislodging hissing showers of shifting snow from the low branches above them. They walkedquietly through the hushed winter forest until finally Liam could make out a narrow road, snowshovelled to either side to keep it passable.

Bob squatted down, surveying the way ahead, and Liam joined him. The road, little more than adirt track, climbed the hill gently. Fifty yards up they could see a guard hut picked out inthe glow of a swivelling floodlight, sand bags either side, and a raisable barrier blockingthe way. A small smile crept across Liam’s quivering lips.

Nothing Bob can’t handle there.

‘If you can take out those guards,’ said Liam quietly, ‘we could wait rightthere for Kramer.’

Bob nodded. ‘Affirmative. That is a good plan. I shall — ’

He froze.

‘Bob? What is it?’

‘I have just detected emerging tachyon particles in the vicinity.’ His grey eyesswivelled on to Liam. ‘A time window has just been opened nearby.’

‘What? You sure it’s not traces of our own time window you’re pickingup?’

‘It is not us.’

Liam glanced at the trees around them. ‘Nearby?’

‘Very close. Within three hundred yards of our position.’

Foster’s guesswork must have been wrong. This guy, Kramer, hadn’t already beenback in 1941 for some time working at getting an audience with Hitler. He’d only justarrived.

‘I am detecting a significant number of decaying particles.’

‘And that means?’

‘One large displacement window or many smaller windows.’

Liam bit his lip with dawning realization. ‘It’s not just Kramer on his own, isit?’

It was then that they heard movement through the trees: faint at first, theswish of a snow-laden branch pushed aside, the soft clink and rattle of webbing and carriedequipment, the hushed whisper of several voices. All of it coming their way.

‘Recommendation: we should hide.’

Liam looked around in the darkness. The glow of moonlight made everything that wasn’tsnow-covered stand out in stark contrast. Unless they could quickly bury themselves, they weregoing to be spotted. He looked up at the tree they were squatting beneath.

‘Up there.’ He pointed. ‘In the tree.’

Bob nodded. Without a moment’s hesitation he grabbed Liam and effortlessly hefted himup on to the lowest branch. Silently, and with the grace of a gymnast on parallel bars, heswung up beside him, the branch creaking worryingly beneath his immense weight.

The noises grew subtly louder, closer, until Liam was able to see movement. Dark shapeswarily emerged from beneath the shadow of trees, stepping cautiously across the glowing snowbelow, then — almost unbelievably — coming to a halt beneath the very tree theywere hiding in.

They squatted down and surveyed the track heading up the hill just as Bob had been doing amoment earlier. Then he heard one of them talking softly.

‘This is it, Karl. This is it! Hitler’s winter retreat!’ An accent hevaguely recognized. He recalled the precise tones, the voice of recited speeches endlesslybroadcast over the prison-camp speakers.

Kramer?

A second voice. ‘ Der Kehlsteinhaus. The Eagle’s Nest.It does not appear that heavily guarded.’ This one had a clipped, foreign-soundingaccent.

Liam strained to hear what the men said next, their voices quieter still.Then Kramer spoke more clearly: ‘A little further up the hillside, only a few hundredyards away, is an SS garrison housing four or five hundred of them. They will happily die todefend their leader. Your men will have to be very fast, Karl.’

His voice dropped again, then the second murmured a response.

Liam turned to look at Bob, perched perfectly still on the branch beside him like a night owlwatching the progress of some small rodent and poised ready to leap.

‘Switch to night sights, gentlemen,’ hissed the second man. In the darkness belowthem, Liam saw something glowing a soft ghostly green among the gathered men. Then severalmore. He realized they were goggles of some sort.

‘Mr Kramer, sir?’ whispered one of the men.

It is Kramer! Liam felt his heartsuddenly flutter.

‘What is it, Rudy?’

‘Will we actually get to meet Adolf Hitler tonight? Forreal?’ Another heavily accented voice.

‘Yes, Rudy, you will. Tonight, gentlemen — ’ Kramer raised his voice from awhisper to a soft murmur for them all to hear — ‘we are going to write a brand-newhistory together.’

Bob tapped Liam on the arm. They were too close to the men below to be able to talk. Insteadthe support unit gestured at them. An unmistakable gesture that told him…

I am ready.

Liam swallowed anxiously, feeling his gut churning once again with fear. Gritting his teeth,he nodded.

Do it.

1941, woods outside Obersalzberg

Bob dropped silently down out of the tree on to the men below. Liam heard the heavythud of his solid body and the unmistakable crack of bones.

Then all hell broke loose.

Voices brittle with alarm and confusion. The dark swirling scrum of figures below illuminatedfor a freeze-frame second by the single muzzle-flash of a silenced weapon. Bob, a bloodiedknife in one hand mid-slash across the chest of one man, his other big hand crushing thethroat of another of them.

Several more strobing muzzle-flashes in the confusing darkness, accompanied by the muted puffof a silenced rifle. The fleeting light showed four tangled bodies on the ground already,blood pooling across the snow. Bob thrashing at another man with lethal speed and agility, andat least another dozen men around him recovering from the moment of surprise and cocking theirguns to fire.

I have to help him.

Liam pulled the pistol out of his holster and aimed it at one of the dark outlines — one of the men who looked nearest ready to fire — and pulled the trigger. The loud crackfrom his gun echoed through the trees, no doubt rousing the SS guards up the track.

One of the men below him grunted and went down, clutching his thigh.

My God, I actually hit something.

Having now given his position away, he realized he couldn’t sit perched up on thebranch any more. Grimacing and gritting his teeth, he dropped down to the ground into thethick of the fight. He landed heavily on the back of one of the dead men. Around him all hecould hear was the grunting, the laboured breath of a dozen or more men, shrill words barkedin German, accented English and one or two other languages.

‘There… shoot him!’

‘Shoot! Shoot!’

‘Out of the way, Schwartz!’

A machine gun spewed a salvo of muzzle-suppressed taps and litthe scene with flickering light. Liam saw Bob take half a dozen shots in the chest, his blacktunic erupting with exit wounds and geysers of dark blood.

Not enough to stop him, though. In an instant he was upon the one who’d fired, hisblade a lethal flash of quicksilver death across the man’s throat.