James Rouch - Body Count

“Can you cope?” Standing back from the map, Gebert saw that with the exception of the fires around the Englischer Garten, the location of the outbreaks made a ring around the heart of Munich. There was no need for him to ask if it was deliberate.

“We’re already on the scene at several. We should be able to bring some under control quite quickly. I have requested help from outlying forces, but they will take time to arrive. I’ve had to do that because we’re so seriously under strength.”

“The sabotage you reported this afternoon?” Gebert lifted a corner of the map to look for the file, but failed to find it.

“Yes, a lot of our pumps are off the road due to that. Mostly it’s contaminated fuel, but we’ve also had punctures, slashed hoses, you name it.”

“What’s this I’ve heard about hoax calls?” Gebert had listened to the recital with growing unease.

As usual there was no change of expression from Friedmann’s usual hawk like intensity, but a note almost of admiration crept into his voice. “Those are very clever, and we’re getting a lot. It’s making our work a lot more difficult.”

“Have we caught any of those responsible for the sabotage, or the calls?” Colonel Klee had thought it time he had a say, as no one had spoken to him.

“The police are holding suspects. They’ve got nothing useful out of them so far.” Gebert scrutinized the map once more. “And I don’t expect they will. They appear to be low-grade sleepers, expendables who were given a task by a controller, who has since disappeared.”

“Then what does it all mean?” Klee was confused by events. “I don’t understand why you should need me here at this late hour. This is purely a matter for the civil authorities, surely. No military targets have been attacked, have they?”

For a moment Klee gained a little confidence as he made that point. “Not that I know of, I’ll check the current situation.” Friedmann took his radio to the far end of the room.

“Really, I do think that this is a matter for the police.” Klee shifted uneasily, yawned, looked at the time, and then yawned again.

“They’re stretched to the limit already.” Gebert made an effort, and managed to keep his language moderate. “In a few hours, the Oktoberfest commences. The city is bursting at the seams, and now they also have the traffic problems brought about by all the rubbernecks gawping at the fires.”

Klee bridled up. “My men are trained soldiers, not traffic police. They have other duties to perform.”

“Hell and shit,” Gebert exploded. “Those garrison troops of yours are the worst parasites in the city! If it wasn’t that they were sometimes called on to perform a few gentle ceremonial duties, we’d never get them off their fat backsides and out of the beer halls.”

During the display of rage by the mayor, the colonel appeared visibly to shrink. He made a last effort.

“That is a slur on the men I command…”

“No actual military targets,” Friedmann didn’t apologize for interrupting, “but one blaze is threatening a clothing store holding army supplies, and another is half a block from a supply corps headquarters.”

With a marker pen he indicated another four locations on the map. “Four more fires in the outer suburbs. Might have been more, but the police have stumbled across a couple of groups in the act of setting more incendiary devices.”

Gebert snatched up the telephone. “Get the police commissioner up here the moment he arrives… No, it’s okay.”

As the door opened to admit the man, Gebert had not recognized him for a moment. The police chief was not in uniform.

“My men have taken a few students in the act of starting fires. They made a run for it. We shot three. Two are dead, one in a bad way.” Commissioner Stadler was listening to his personal radio even as he spoke. “He’ll live most likely, and well be picking up the bill for months. The last one gave himself up, he almost shit himself. Singing like a bird he is, but he doesn’t know anymore than the others we picked up for sabotage.”

Stadler turned to the fire chief. “When will you have those fires out, how long?” Freidmann busied himself over his map. “Several of the outer ones are coming under control already. Those in the centre we’ll let burn out. My men have orders to prevent their spread, that’s all.”

“What the hell good is that?” Waving his arms, Gebert stalked around the desk. “At the moment they’ve got a novelty attraction. When the crowds find out that the one they’re watching is part of a rash of the damned things — started by commie agents — what the fuck do you think is going to happen?”

“Panic.” Stadler knew the answer. “When that happens, we’ll need troops on the streets.”

“I don’t think so.” Colonel Klee was wringing his hands together slowly, sufficiently hard to make the knuckles go white. “If you really think it’s advisable though, I could have a couple of platoons, or even a company, put on standby. At least that’s the recommendation I’d make, if you’ll back me.”

“Are you afraid of upsetting someone? You worried about all the generals we’ve got in town?” Keeping his patience was proving difficult for Gebert.

“I command the garrison troops.” For a moment, Colonel Klee felt able to assert his position, but the recollection of other considerations he had to be aware of swiftly robbed him of that transient dignity. “But as a courtesy, I will consult other senior officers, though I do not know if I should bother them at this late hour.”

The mayor opened his mouth to reply, then changed his mind and ignored the man, turning instead to the fire chief.

“I’ll tell the civil defence people to let you have all the dispatch riders they’ve got. Have them check out all the emergency calls, save your men from rushing about following up hoax calls. Anything else you need?”

“No, not that I can think of. We’ll have things under control soon enough. There won’t be many more fires…” Friedmann saw the look that Stadler gave him. “At least, I should imagine there won’t be.”

“I need those damned troops.” Stadler didn’t wait to be asked. “I need them tucked away up side streets, in platoon strength, in constant radio contact with my control room. I’ll attach a couple of my men to each platoon, so that we can meet every legal requirement. I expect those pink shits from the civil rights crowd will have already been mobilized, so as to cause us as much hassle as possible.”

The phone rang, and as Gebert answered it, there came a distant strident wailing that grew rapidly louder as sirens close at hand joined in.

“Thank you, Frau Pasch, yes, I know. I can hear the klaxons for myself, thank you.” Reaching down into a deep bottom drawer, Gebert rummaged about beneath piles of paper and extracted a steel helmet. “I think we should adjourn to the civil defence bunker in the basement now, gentlemen.”

The-calmness in his voice and manner was not matched by what Gebert felt inside. Seven times in the past year, the sirens had sounded. Five occasions had been for civil defence practice. Once had been due to faulty equipment. The other time had been triggered by a crippled Soviet bomber, still miraculously flying after being damaged and abandoned by its crew while over the Zone.

He felt that this was not an event like any of those. Already it was too late to do what instinct urged him to do. That was to walk to the window and take what might be a last look at the city.

Already switches were being thrown that would plunge the whole of Munich into darkness. Gebert made his own contribution, turning off the room lights. He was surprised at how bright it remained, with the moonlight streaming in through the big windows.