The Excalibur Codex

XXIV

Hermann wriggled slowly backwards through the undergrowth, leaving Jamie and Charlotte to follow as best they could. With every movement Jamie waited for the crack of dry twig that would draw the fire of their pursuers. He had no doubt now that these men, whoever they proved to be, were killers. You didn’t carry that kind of firepower without being prepared to use it for the purpose for which it was designed. He froze as something touched his leg. When he looked up, Hermann was peering from what appeared to be a bramble-covered storm drain that entered the gully from the right. The young German nodded encouragement for first Charlotte, then Jamie to follow. They made their way through the leaf mould and sludge for fifty yards and Jamie realized it wasn’t a drain at all but some kind of reinforced trench, perhaps a rudimentary bomb shelter.

When he reached the limit of the trench, Hermann raised his head a few inches — and froze. Jamie could hear the sound of a whispered conversation and feet rustling through damp leaves.

Eventually, Hermann hissed that whoever had been making the noise was gone and they slipped over the end of the trench into the open, in the shadow of a massive, moss-covered concrete emplacement. Hermann led them through a doorway and pointed upwards to a square of light in the roof. ‘You climb now. Wait until I come back.’

‘What?’ Charlotte whispered incredulously.

‘Climb.’ The German indicated a rusting steel ladder anchored to the wall. A burst of fire somewhere close made him shrink back into the shadows. ‘Climb, please.’

Charlotte scrambled up with all the athleticism of a trained acrobat and Jamie followed as she slipped through a jagged-edged hole into the fresh air. ‘Stay low,’ he hissed. They crawled across the rough concrete to what looked like a sunken pond set into the roof.

‘Jacuzzi,’ she mouthed.

He smiled at the attempt to lighten the mood. Up here their situation seemed less perilous, but he knew that was an illusion. ‘Flak emplacement,’ he explained in a low voice. ‘There would have been an anti-aircraft gun. Hitler was paranoid about being bombed.’

More shots rang through the forest, slightly more distant than the first. Maybe Gault was leading them away? Jamie risked a look down at the clearing they’d crossed, instantly withdrawing his head in response to what he saw. Four men, each armed with a machine gun, were just being joined by a fifth. They were in their late twenties to early thirties and dark haired, two of them wore beards. He could hear them talking in what might have been Pashto, or one of the other languages from around the Khyber Pass. It sounded as if one was making his point more forcefully than the rest. Abruptly, the talking stopped and from the opening at the top of the ladder they heard the clink of metal below.

Jamie squirmed his way to the hole and, with one eye, attempted to work an angle where he could see without being seen. He froze. Two of them: one with his foot on the lower rungs of the ladder and ready to climb. The other apparently arguing that they had better things to do. Jamie looked round frantically for something he could use as a weapon, but the only objects to hand were a few old branches that had fallen from the tree canopy above. He searched for a piece of concrete loose enough to prise away, but quickly realized why no one had managed to blow up this particular bunker. The mortar was as solid now as the day it dried in the spring of 1941. Charlotte watched wide-eyed as he moved to the opposite side of the opening to a position where he’d be behind the gunman when he reached the top. She picked up a slim branch and crawled to his side. The argument below ended and they held their breath and waited. Had they left? No, there it was again, the soft chink of feet on rusting metal. Jamie tensed, and Charlotte raised the branch.

A head crowned with dark hair appeared in the opening, some kind of machine gun slung by the strap over his khaki combat jacket. Charlotte’s face contorted with effort and she brought the branch down two-handed towards the exposed head.

‘No,’ Jamie hissed, grabbing her arm.

Hermann turned to grin at them. ‘You think I’m not coming back, huh? You must come with me, it is safe for now.’ He began to descend the ladder again. When they were on the ground, the young German proudly showed Jamie the gun he’d brought from the shooting range. ‘I have key,’ he explained. ‘Sometimes we party there.’

‘It’s a bloody antique,’ Jamie said incredulously. ‘I’ve only ever seen them in war films.’ It was a matt-black sub-machine gun with a pistol grip and a skeletal metal stock. The magazine looked too long for the rest of the weapon.

‘Schmeisser MP40. It shoot good. I show you when we meet these bastards.’

‘No you bloody won’t.’ Jamie prised the machine pistol from his reluctant hands. ‘Does it even fire real bullets?’ He pressed a button below the barrel and removed the long magazine, which proved to be full of 9mm cartridges. The gun was cocked and ready to fire, although the cocking handle sat in a notch that seemed to act as a safety catch. It was much heavier than the more modern machine pistols he’d fired during his OTC course at Cambridge, but it seemed to be well maintained. With any luck it wouldn’t blow up in his face.

Hermann reached into his jacket and pulled out a second magazine. He handed it to Jamie, who took it and shoved it into the inside pocket of his jacket. ‘This boss’s gun. He lets special guests use. Lech Walesa shoot this gun,’ he said proudly.

Jamie tested the weapon against his shoulder. He didn’t particularly want to shoot anyone, but the knowledge that if anybody tried to kill him he’d be able to shoot back gave him a warm glow

‘Can you get us back to the hotel?’ he asked the German.

‘They might be waiting for us,’ Charlotte pointed out. ‘Wouldn’t it be safer to stay here until they give up and go away? We could hide on the roof again?’

Jamie studied their surroundings. ‘I don’t think they’re the type to give up. This is the perfect place to do whatever it is they’ve come to do. Our best chance is to get back to civilization. Poor old Gault could be lying out there somewhere bleeding to death. If we can’t go to the hotel, we still have to get out of here. Hermann? This is your territory.’

The young man’s face creased into a frown. ‘Maybe we go other hotel. Księżycowy Dworek on far side of the forest. Is where Eva Braun stay when she is fucking Hitler.’

Jamie almost laughed out loud at the outraged expression on Charlotte’s face. ‘We don’t have a lot of choice,’ he shrugged. ‘And it sounds as good a place to hide out as any.’

Hermann grinned. ‘Hermann knows good way. I show, but first need to get to air raid shelter.’

He checked the path was clear and led them swiftly through the trees and bushes, unerringly guiding them past ankle-breaking trenches and pits hidden by grass and brambles. The heavy undergrowth limited visibility to less than ten paces and every step felt as if it could be taking them into an ambush. In the rear, Jamie scanned the greenery for any sign of danger, his fingers in a death grip on the pressed steel of the machine pistol. Hermann turned and indicated an almost intact bunker. ‘This Martin Bormann’s air raid shelter.’

Jamie relaxed a little as they approached the lichen-covered concrete ruin and it almost cost him his life. A shadowy figure seemed to grow from the bushes to his right. He sensed the man’s finger on the trigger and fired as he pirouetted, the machine pistol stuttering his hands and almost deafening him with its staccato growl. The MP40 had only one setting, fully automatic, and the recoil pulled the barrel upwards and to the right, so that a burst that had been aimed at the legs stitched a line of bullets from groin to shoulder and his target went down screaming. He cursed himself for an idiot as he realized he’d fired half the 32-round magazine.

‘Jamie!’ He heard Charlotte’s screamed warning and sprinted for the bunker entrance as another figure erupted from the undergrowth behind him. A rasping burst of fire fizzed by his ear from somewhere to his left. His body cringed at the near miss and he heard the zing of bullets ricocheting from the concrete. Charlotte had been standing by the doorway, but when he looked again she was gone. His mind screamed at him that the bunker wasn’t a refuge, but a trap. On the other hand, they weren’t going anywhere and six feet of concrete backed up by the MP40 was a pretty useful deterrent unless the enemy were suicidally brave. He told himself that they could hold out until help arrived, but a little voice cursed him as an optimistic fool.

Inside the bunker his heart stopped. Charlotte lay on her back with a face as pale as death. Her eyes were closed and blood leaked from a wound on her forehead. Hermann stooped over her, dabbing ineffectively at the injury with a handkerchief.

‘Oh Christ …’

The German looked up, his face stricken, but his next words filled Jamie with hope.

‘I think she is hurt by concrete from when bullet hit bunker.’

Jamie crouched beside Charlotte and she gave a soft groan as he carefully checked the wound with his fingers. With an almost physical surge of relief he realized Hermann was right. Whatever had hit her hadn’t penetrated the skull, but had torn a nasty two-inch gash just below the hairline. ‘Look after her,’ he ordered the German, then he ran back to the door, staying in the shadows where he couldn’t be seen from outside. Nothing moved, but that didn’t mean anything. He loosed a short burst from the Schmeisser, reckoning that it would buy them another few minutes. What he really needed was a clear shot. As his tactics instructor had once said, there is nothing like a man down screaming with a bullet in his belly to make the enemy think twice about his next move. By the time he rejoined Hermann, the hotel worker had moved Charlotte to the back of the bunker and was shifting rubble from a rusting piece of iron that lay flat on the concrete floor.

‘I thought I told you to look after her.’

Hermann didn’t answer. With a grunt he pushed one last big lump of concrete aside. ‘Help me,’ he urged, easing his fingers under the four-foot iron plate. Without waiting for an answer he heaved upwards, raising it a few inches. Jamie laid the MP40 on the floor and went to his side. Together they managed to haul the heavy plate upright, revealing a dark cavity in the floor.

‘All the big bosses’ bunkers linked by tunnels,’ Hermann explained breathlessly. ‘You hold.’

While Jamie kept the plate steady, the young German took Charlotte’s semi-conscious body under the arms and dragged her to the edge of the tunnel entrance. From somewhere he produced a small torch and Jamie saw that a set of concrete stairs led downwards for about five yards. Hermann descended until his chest was at floor level and took Charlotte in his arms.

‘Now you come,’ he said, before disappearing into the darkness.

Jamie had the choice of dropping the iron plate away from the entrance, ensuring their hunters would discover the tunnel the minute they were brave enough to enter the bunker, or finding a way to drop it back in place as he made his exit. He solved the problem by using the MP40, which was close enough to retrieve, as a support to prop up the plate. Once he had slithered backwards into the tunnel, he removed the gun and allowed the iron to settle into place, using his back to slow its descent. He knew it wouldn’t fool the ambushers for long without the camouflage of the rubble, but it was better than nothing.

When the metal plate had sunk into position he slung the Schmeisser over his shoulder and followed the light of the torch to where Hermann waited. Charlotte was slumped at his feet with her hands over her face, which at least meant she was conscious. Between them they got her to her feet and supported her along the dank tunnel, which Jamie now saw was about eight foot high and the same wide. Dripping with damp and the wires for the lighting still hanging in loops from the ceiling, the passages must have been built to ensure the work of the High Command could continue even if the complex was attacked. Naturally, Hitler wouldn’t want his quest for world domination to be interrupted by anything as minor as a few Russian bombs.

They stopped to rest every few minutes and Jamie used the intervals to listen for sounds of pursuit. He heard nothing. Maybe the hunters were afraid of the dark, but he doubted it. As they stumbled through the twisting labyrinth, Charlotte kept repeating how sorry she was and she’d be all right soon, while Hermann muttered to himself constantly in German. The reason for his nervousness was revealed when he stopped abruptly and probed with the torch until he found a side tunnel a few paces ahead. ‘Main tunnel blocked,’ he said. ‘Nazis, Russkis, who knows? Many tunnels blocked. This way take us to guest shelter. Not far from there to Księżycowy hotel, yes? We get help there.’

After what seemed like an eternity they saw a speck of natural light in the distance. At the same moment Charlotte’s legs went out from under her and Jamie struggled with her limp body until Hermann was able to help support her. When they were a few yards from the end of the tunnel, the two men staggered to a halt and laid their burden gently to the floor. The source of the light turned out to be a curtain of ivy growing beneath the collapsed roof of a demolished bunker. Jamie unslung the MP40 and crawled through beneath the overhanging slab until he could get some notion of his surroundings.

And found disaster.

Hurriedly, he slithered backwards into the mouth of the tunnel, where Hermann sat holding Charlotte’s hand. ‘There are more of them,’ he whispered. ‘I don’t know how many, but three at least, and they’re being methodical. They might find us, and they might not, but I don’t think we can take the chance. If Charlotte was up to it, I’d try to slip past them, but we don’t have that option. You’re going to have to stay with her until she revives. I’ll lead them away. Try to get her to the other hotel. Okay?’ Hermann nodded, but his eyes were filled with fear. ‘You’ll be fine.’ Jamie squeezed the young German’s arm. ‘Your grandfather would be proud of you.’

He replaced the half-empty magazine of the MP40 with the full one from his jacket. Plenty of ammo to make a demonstration, but if he got into a firefight he was in trouble. He noticed Charlotte shivering and he took off his jacket and covered her with it.

Hermann shook his hand. ‘Viel Glück, my friend.’

Jamie licked his lips and crawled to the tunnel mouth.