VODKA NIGHTS

by Iakovos

The dirty 1/2 dozen must rescue a British agent.

VODKA NIGHTS
by Iakovos Vlioras

DISCLAIMER: The characters of Commandos were created by Eidos,
I don't own them.
All references on Commandos belong to Eidos and Pyro Studios.
THANKS: I must thank all the true Commandos Fans.
TYPE: Commandos Fan Fiction
ARCHIVE: Okay to archive to Gossamer and anywhere else as long as my
name goes with it. :)
RATING: PG-13.
SPOILERS: Mainly the Norway missions, plus mission 15 of CBEL and
mission 6 of CBTCOD.
SUMMARY: The dirty 1/2 dozen must rescue a British agent.
MUSIC CHOICE: The Rock and The Living Daylights soundtracks.
BRIEF NOTE: Sex:none; Language: mild; Violence: strong;
A little knowledge of the Commandos game
would be helpful, but is not essential.
No money is being made from this fanfic. No copyright infringement is
intended.
FEEDBACK: send all comments to indianos@ath.forthnet.gr

"Don't believe none of us"
Hamlet

---------TOP SECRET ---------TOP SECRET---------TOP SECRET---------

FOR YOUR EYES ONLY

Mission: VODKA NIGHTS

• Objective: Assassinate the Chief of Counterintelligence and head of the special SS commandos units Herr Dietrich Von Hafner, liberate the MI6 operative and destroy the German commandos unit.
• Team: Green Beret, Sniper, Marine, Sapper, Driver , Spy

MISSION OVERVIEW : Winter,1943. It has been a year of struggle for the Allied Forces. The US Divisions keep on fighting in Italy. The Royal Air Force has retaliated and dropped 350 4,000-lb bombs on Berlin. The Germans are afraid for an invasion in Denmark, Norway or France. On the 12^th of December 1943 Rommel is appointed Commander in Chief by the Fuhrer himself. His orders: to protect Europe at any costs, by creating the famous "Atlantic Wall". Soon he will assume command of German Army Group B covering the north of France, Belgium and the Netherlands.

To assist him in his quest for information, General Dietrich Von Hafner, chief of Counterintelligence and head of the special SS commandos units has managed to capture a British agent, who has crucial information about the war. This information, if used by the Nazis, will bring certain doom to all operations behind Enemy Lines and will turn the scale in favor of the Third Reich.

BRIEFING: Good to see you alive officer. Let's get on with the mission. Your task is to liquidate General Von Hafner, head of the most feared commandos Units of the Nazis. His Units were able to capture an MI6 Operative, you must rescue him at all costs as he has crucial information about our activities in the war. I know that this is a British Intelligence mishap but we were ordered to carry out this assignment. At least they provided an air view of their agent's holding place. I am counting on you Officer to get us out from this mess. If you do not succeed then our commandos operations will come to an end. DO NOT LET ME OR THE OTHER COMMANDOS DOWN. GOOD LUCK OFFICER.

PROLOGUE

Netherlands

23 December 1943

03:53 HOURS

CLASSIFIED MILITARY INSTALLATION

It was a cold night. The rain kept falling on the doomed landscape. The waves of the sea kept on crushing on the ice. It is difficult to live in Netherlands, let alone die in it. Watching the dark clouds through the middle window Hans Viemer, the patrolling German Officer took out a smoke. Yes, it is difficult to live in this damned forsaken place, he thought. The Fatherland was almost the same, but at least that was home. He hadn't been with his wife for several months. It was good not to know that he would never see her again. From all his comrades he alone was ordered to move back and guard this abandoned facility. Why, he did not know. Of course he wouldn't prefer the eastern front but to be able to participate against the English, those strong fighters, that was a different matter. This, this guarding was important some how for the Third Reich.

He wasn't aware that in this forsaken place the most feared of the SS commandos units was about to create a chaos in the Allied Defenses. The seizure and capture of one of the most important men of the MI6, or British Intelligence, would provide Fuhrer with enough information to destroy all operations of the so called brave Commandos, who were ordered to attack Behind Enemy Lines. Finally the Germans would be able to attack this time instead of being careful not to get killed by an unknown and terrible enemy.

"It is time", Viemer said and put out his cigarette.

Outside the hard rain was tormenting every soul in its reach. The soldiers in the watch towers were deeply secured, warm and cozy. But the men on patrol would prefer to stay inside the barracks, than going outside in this bloody awful weather.

In this place it doesn't rain, it pours, Viemer thought.
" Immediate inspection ", he yelled with a commanding voice.

The three soldiers, his assigned patrol, stood at attention. They were the peak of German youth. All were ready to die for the great Fuhrer, Viemer was sure about that. His beliefs of course were something completely different. Each man was dressed with the standard issue military cloak. Their weapons were also wrapped for protection of the rain. He checked them briefly, inspecting every feature on their uniforms.

" Good. Let's go…be ready, this is a bad night, I will not allow any mistakes! ".

He opened the door and the cold air rushed in. They all let out a sigh and went outside. They hadn't walked for a mere three minutes and they were soaked wet.

CHAPTER ONE

THE COMING OF SHADOWS

4:07 HOURS

NEAR THE EASTERN FOREST

"Snell, light here and here. Do not delay god damn it." Viemer ordered.

This was not a good sign. After a thunder they had heard a cry. Viemer was not sure what to make of that, was it his imagination, he didn't know, but the other men had heard it too.

"Sergeant, footprints on the ice", yelled a soldier and armed his machine gun.

"Where?" Viemer yelled back.

He ran and saw what was obvious. Someone somehow had bypassed the mines in the water and managed to climb onto the ice. The flashlight wasn't telling any lies. There were footprints on the ice. Probably by several persons. He moved a few feet to the right and saw the impossible. Four mines were stuck near the ice bed, all defused and wrapped together. Who could do such a thing? Near them was a boat, able to carry at least six men. That was definitely not a good sign.

"Stay on alert…arm your weapons, we 've got company. Kerken, return to base, sound the alarm."

" Yes sir." Kerken returned to the designated path and headed for base.

Viemer took out his pistol and returned to the patrolling area with his remaining soldiers. A few minutes passed and nobody came. Where is he? Where are the others? What happened? Questions with no answers. Everything had gone to hell.

" Let's go back, now." It was the most sensible thing to do, under the circumstances.

After a few minutes they arrived at the point were they had left Kerken. A few feet further to the south they found him…dead.

" Who did this? How?" One of the last two soldiers cried. He was Kerken's dear friend.

"They used an animal trap. Poor bastard , see that wire in his legs. He tripped and fell right on top of the trap. At least he died quickly."

" I want to find them".

"Are you insane, private? In this weather? We must alert the others. And that's an order".

"No, I must find them, they killed my best friend."

"I am not going to argue with you, you miserable scum. I am trying to keep you alive. Now LET'S RETURN TO BASE".

Another thunder, another cry. Viemer and his patrol froze.

"They are near, move out. NOW". Viemer managed to say. He then heard one zipping sound, coming from the forest but approaching him. He looked down and saw that his shirt had turned red. He touched it and felt a sticky substance. His hand had also gone red. It was blood, he realized. His senses abandoned him and he fainted without feeling the pain. He immediately died.

It was all over in a few seconds. Two more zipping sounds and the whole patrol was exterminated.

Several meters away a gloved hand secured his precision rifle.

4:17 HOURS

HAFNER'S CHATEAU

OUTSIDE NORTHEAST WALL

A figure moved, he saw it. Private Roope was sure about that. He tightened his grip around his rifle. In this rain, standing alone on the top of the wall was frustrating enough. A man could go mad in a matter of minutes. And now he was seeing ghosts? Could it be one of the patrol? They were four, not one. So no, he thought. It was too soon for the patrol anyway. He checked again his rifle. It was secured. At least a bullet can kill everything, ghosts or no ghosts. He gazed for a brief moment at the dark sky above him. This rain will never stop. Then he turned his attention to the matter at hand. The rain was making it harder to spot any approaching enemies, but Roope knew that this was a secret base. Only a psychopathic commando with a death wish would come here.

Now he was confident. A dark figure was standing in front of him, a few yards away. He lifted his rifle and pointed it at the silhouette. He yelled at the same time in German:

"Eeehh, Freeze. IDENTIFY YOURSELF".

His partner on the left heard the order and pointed also his rifle at the supposed enemy.

"I've got him covered". Hartmann told Roope.

"WHO ARE YOU? IDENTIFY YOURSELF NOW", yelled again Roope.

What was he doing there? Who was that …man…yes it looked like a man, Roope thought. Why is he just standing there? What's going on?

"IDENTIFY YOURSELF OR I'LL SHOOT", it was Roope's last warning.

The figure raised one arm. Then he raised both.

"What is he doing?" cried his partner.

"What is he doing? Roope… what is he doing?"

Private Hartmann felt a muscular arm around his neck. It cut his breath away. Something penetrated his left lung. It was the thin steel blade of a very sharp knife. He fell on the floor. A few seconds before Hartmann passed away he saw what hit him. It was the psychopathic commando Roope was thinking about. Two muscular arms lifted him and placed him next to Roope's dead body.

The figure continued its work. Soon the whole northeast wall was clear of all German guards.

4:12 HOURS

HAFNER'S CHATEAU

OUTSIDE NORTHEAST WALL

"Nice shooting, man", said Tiny as he was lifting the dead bodies.

"I've done it before. No problem", replied Duke coldly.

"No problem? I've never seen anybody shooting like this. Where…" Tiny was cut off.

"Enough of this chit-chat, gentlemen, we've got a job to do. I propose that we do it", another dark figure approached from the back of the forest. It was Rene Duchamp, also known as "spooky". He was now an officer and head of this mission.

"Sergeant, the wall I believe is your specialty. Go ahead."

"The stripes doesn't give you the right to order us around, Frency", said the driver.

"That's enough, Perkins!" Tiny turned to Duchamp and said ironically:

" YES, SIR! Gladly to do THAT sir. But I need a diversion for the guards."

"Use this big mouth", Frency answered back.

"Why you son of a …" Sid Brooklyn lifted his fist towards Duchamp. The others managed to restrain him.

" I said that's enough, Perkins!" now Tiny lifted his fist. Sid calmed down.

"You 've got your orders, carry them out!"

"YES, SIR!", answered all with one voice.

Tiny and Brooklyn moved ahead,crawling, while the others rested behind.

"Try to read some poetry, Sid."

"What?" Sid was confused.

"It helps you to relax. You are a bad tempered man."

"Thanks a lot, bro! You like having Frency over there bullying us around?"

"This is neither the time nor the place. This mission is too damned important. Now get yourself together".

"Fine, when we return I'll…"

"Stop moving. That guard saw something", whispered O'Hara.

Sid lifted his head up. He was covered with mud. He observed the wall. Indeed the guard was searching for something.

"Stay here. I 'll scale the wall. When I reach the top, you get up and lift your hands. That'll be the signal. Got that, private?"

"Ok, sarg." Sid was uncomfortable with that. Being exposed like that wasn't his idea of a fun day.

Tiny moved on and reached the wall. When he was sure that the guards at the top were not able to see him he positioned his hands on the wall and started climbing. It was a hard task. The wall was very slippery, because of the continuous pounding of the rain. After a few tries Tiny succeeded in climbing the wall. He looked carefully to the left. One guard was gazing at the sky. Too bad this is your last view of the world, friend, Tiny said to himself.

Brooklyn looked for Tiny through the rain. He realized that his teammate was on top. Suddenly he remembered a poem by Tennyson:

"The woods decay, the woods decay and fall,

The vapours weep their burthen to the ground,

Man comes and tilts the field and lies beneath,

And after many a summer dies the swan…"

He is right. Poetry really helps you relax and concentrate. Well, there is no point in living if you can't feel alive, Sid said to himself and stood up. His adrenaline level went sky high. The guard on top of the wall yelled something in German. Then the second guard pointed his weapon at Sid's direction.

"Yeah, yeah, you sobs", Sid whispered and lifted his arms. He could distinguish from afar the shining of Tiny's blade.

CHAPTER TWO

TRIAL AND ERROR

4:29 HOURS

SECURITY PERIMETER

CLASSIFIED SUBMARINE DOCKS

It will be morning soon. A silent man was standing in front of the docks. Inside the classified facility three well equipped submarines were waiting for any sign of trouble. Their crews would be inside them in a matter of seconds, if someone sounded the alarm.

At least someone is going to relive me from my post, private Zitstein thought. Oh, how much I want a smoke. Those damned orders from the Gestapo goons. No smoking is allowed on duty. Who thought of such a silly order? What about us, the fucking men? He had forgotten his pack in the barracks. My life for a cigarette. What wouldn't I give for a smoke?

The rain had turned softer now. Suddenly he heard a noise.

"What's that? Who's there?" Zitstein questioned.

There was nothing. His mind was playing tricks on him. I need to get some rest. All of a sudden he froze. Next to him, a few meters away, a full pack of cigarettes was lying, unattended. Praise the Lord, He heard my wish.

Probably someone forgot it there. Who cares? Its mine.

A disturbing thought occurred to him. What about that other guard near the south east wall? He wasn't anywhere to be found. Probably he dropped them. Too bad for him. Finders keepers losers wipers. He checked briefly to see if anyone was coming.

No , not a soul. Good, nobody will know that I broke the rules.

He left his post and moved to get the cigarettes.

"This is going to be a nice day, a nice day indeed", Zitstein said aloud. And smiled cunningly. He leaned to pick them up.

He took out his lighter, lighted one smoke, took one puff and … choked. It wasn't the smoke of his cigarette, it was his blood. He fell on the ground. A harpoon had pierced his neck . It was a fatal wound. Behind him a figure moved. Zitstein heard something in English and died.

"Don't you know that smoking will kill you?" said Fins to the corpse and picked up the pack. Soon Tiny joined him, picked up the body and placed it out of view.

"Check the docks."

"On my way", he replied.

In a few seconds both men disappeared. Nothing was left to tell that here a murder had taken place.

4:32 HOURS

CLASSIFIED MILITARY INSTALLATION

GERMAN SECURITY CAMP

"This damned uniform doesn't fit", said Spooky.

"Well, that's all we've got, Sir ", Tiny replied.

A confused, scared and very naked German soldier was sitting, handcuffed near the forest. Next to him Zitstein's body lay hidden.

"Ok, I'll use this. I don't have a choice. Merde."

Brooklyn looked suspiciously at Spooky but did not say anything. He was just laughing from within. Spooky left them there and went downhill. He soon reached the German camp.

He was a bit afraid, doing this. But it was all a matter of experience. Something he needed to get them out, alive. The French Resistance had promoted him to captain but only for this mission, a little known fact to the other commandos. The French wanted the upper hand on this. They badly wanted to know who was this crucial secret agent and what was his input on Commandos operations. This promotion though was not welcomed by his other teammates. They all considered themselves equal with one another. It was a kind of bonding or mutual respect. Even Tiny, who was a sergeant, treated them with respect. Now to have one officer among them, and from a side not highly regarded, was a mistake, Spooky thought. The good thing was that they had not murdered him yet. To tell them the truth ? That would be a suicide. To keep on acting? It had already brought confusion and disappointment among them. They were a good team. To be torn apart like that could prove a disaster. At least his later downgrading will prove useful as the rest of the commandos will accept him as equal again in their group. The last word came down to…politics. It was fucking politics that could destroy this mission and all hopes for the Allied Forces.

I am not doing this again, Spooky considered.

The rain had stopped now.

"In a few hours sun will come up. I must hurry".

Spooky passed the security gate and entered the compound. He suddenly froze. In front of him an internal security patrol, with a sergeant, was making its round. Another one?

They had all turned their backs on him. It was his chance. He ran inside the camp and hid behind a large building. He had spotted a Gestapo uniform close to the Headquarters of the camp, where the patrol was. The convenient thing was that only one man was guarding it. All the rest where on the walls and watch towers. The main garrison was inside the barracks. Probably the building he was hiding behind. He moved with small and careful steps behind the building and reached a corner. He looked on the right. One man was standing alone near the uniform. The patrol had just passed.

Time to make my introductions, he said to himself and rushed forward. Cold sweat ran down his forehead.

The soldier saw him but did not make a move. The soldier was unaware that this man was the enemy he was trained to kill. Spooky made a gesture and went behind him. Immediately he took out his lethal injection and poisoned the guard. The lethal fluid acted instantaneously. Within a few seconds it reached the heart and just made it stop…beating. The guard didn't make a sound. Spooky picked up his body and quickly ran behind the barracks. At that time the patrol turned around the H.Q. They saw nothing. When they turned around for a second time Spooky ran again and put on the uniform. When the patrol saw him they were startled.

What does a Gestapo officer doing here?

But they did not questioned him.

Spooky saluted them. They saluted back and continued to patrol the area.

Time to make a path for the others.

He climbed a small ladder and was up on the security wall. On the walls there were eight guards, four inside the watch towers and other four standing in the middle.

Spooky went behind the standing guard on the left. The guard saw him and stood immediately at attention. Spooky smiled and saluted.

"Carry on".

"Yes sir".

The soldier turned his glance towards the docks. Spooky checked to see if the patrol was on to him. They weren't. He took out his injection and another soldier went to meet his maker.

Things are going to get hot now.

4:43 HOURS

CLASSIFIED MILITARY INSTALLATION

OUTSIDE GERMAN SECURITY CAMP

"Do you believe he has turned over?" Samuel said confidently.

"No way man. Are you insane? We would be dead already. But I don't like this promotion shit either."

Tiny looked at the camp. He turned back and spoke softly.

"The LC guaranteed for him. The LC does not make mistakes. Not in cases like these. If we cannot trust the chief who can we trust? "

"And what about his attitude problem?"

"You are the man with the attitude problem, not him."

"Is that all you have to say? The bottom line being… that I am the problem?"

"You need to cool down a bit."

"And the rest? Hey Duke? C'mon man, what do you say?"

Duke was watching constantly the camp. He saw a brief flash on the north wall. He turned his attention to Brooklyn.

"No time…let's move. That's the signal."

All of them saw it too. They started crawling towards the camp.

"This conversation is not over, champ."

"It is now."

The spy approached them with careful steps. From afar he lifted his hand and pointed towards the docks. Hancock knew that his time had arrived. He abandoned the others and moved closer to the submarines. A guard was nowhere to be found. The Germans thought that only a stupid man will attack this post from the sea. But they had the submarines just in case.

With the cover of darkness he quickly examined the exoskeleton of the three attack subs. He was a master in observing every weakness in a hull of a ship.

"I sure hope I'll blow again something as deadly as this", he wished without knowing that this was just the start of his explosive career.

He took out his glove and with his naked palm touched the smooth surface of the stainless steel. In that moment of complete silence he realized how lucky he was for not being a sailor. The waves of the sea gently rocked the submarines in their positions. The sea is something that devours you. You cannot mess with mother nature. And what does man do? He builds a sea machine. A machine that is capable to destroy his own creations. To extinguish life.

Yes, I am lucky. But what about the rest poor fellows?

It was a ritual to him. Touching, feeling, knowing your enemy, knowing his greatest accomplishment and his greatest error. Things needed to bring the enemy down. But was he on the right side?

He recognized a few hard edges on the steel, probably from salt corrosion.

"Yes. I am sure. I am definitely sure. There is no room for second thoughts."

This was a great ship. I'll see to it that it won't be operational again, he thought.

Perfect, just perfect. He found the spot he was looking for. He placed one remote control bomb and… a wet hand touched him on the shoulder. He almost had a heart attack. He turned and saw Fins who had just come out of the cold water.

"You scared the hell out of me, you Australian bastard. Don't do that ever, you hear me, ever!!!! This thing could go off!!!!!"

"Sorry mate, no harm intended. Are you done? We need you back there."

"Fine, I'll be over in a minute."

Suddenly Fins looked at the sky.

"Did you hear something?"

"It's probably the wind. Now go and let me be!"

Fins left him there and turned back. Fireman concentrated on his task.

"Soon…very soon this place will blow sky high. As far as I am concerned you will not kill another soul. It's my promise to you ship killer."

He touched for a last time the doomed steel submarine and headed for the two remaining subs.

CHAPTER 3

WHITE LIES

4:59 HOURS

HAFNER'S CHATEAU

NEAR SECURED PRIVATE AIR FIELD

Major Thomas Kempf gazed at the magnificent shape of the night sky. Soon the first rays of the sun would cover all those beautiful stars of angel like light. The sun, the brightest star of all could warm and consume at the same time a man's soul. Sun's ambiguity was something challenging to the human spirit.

It was an excellent moment of transition, from darkness to pure light. But Major Kempf was worried for no apparent reason. He had the prisoner for two whole weeks in his custody and he had only gotten a name and a serial number. Nothing more, nothing less . It was idiotic for him to pursue further information. Even the drugs hadn't work. It was useless to try anything sufficient, without killing the subject. The British spy – that was obvious from the first moment – had already decided to die than to reveal anything of use.

"Those British, dedicated to Queen and Country even as they hold their last breath of life", he said to himself. He knew of course that an execution order would be issued the moment the spy was captured. But he had failed. And failure was not an option for the Fatherland at that particular stage of the war. The Fuhrer needed information about the enemy and he was going to get it no matter what. His greatest fear took shape and form when he read the encrypted message four days ago:

-- PRIORITY AAA --

B086D7N19DECEMBER43

FROM: COMMANDER IN CHIEF

GERMAN HIGH COMMAND,

BERLIN

TO: POST 765,

CODE NAME MARKET PLACE

TOP SECRET-SECURITY DISPATCH

1. USE ALL MEANS NECESSARY.
2. EXECUTE STORYTELLER.
3. WEASEL WILL BE ATTENDING.

-- END OF TRANSMISSION —

These were unwelcome and bad news indeed. Weasel was the designated code name of his superior officer, general Von Hafner. Thankfully Kempf had never realized that the Allies had cracked their Enigma Code machines and they too were aware of his arrival.

Hafner was the most ruthless and sadistic person Kempf ever knew. His presence here meant the sure death of a British spy and his incompetence as an officer of the Third Reich. The Fuhrer trusted him because he was effective and provided always genuine information about the Allies. Kempf always hated him for his sadistic methods. Hafner had no respect for human life. His only goal was to be a loyal subject into Fuhrer's royal court.

His career was doomed anyway, Kempf thought. He had asked again and again for reassignment but Hafner always kept him by his side. He wanted to convert him to his own beliefs, to show him the uselessness of the human kind. Hafner wanted believers, and although Kempf wasn't one of them his SS Commandos were fanatics, loyal to their leader and their holly cause. Kempf could easily die for Fuhrer, a man he admired the most, but not for Hafner, a man he despised the most.

Now he was waiting for his big boss to arrive. Hafner's chateau was equipped with a short but useful airfield, a useful tool for Hafner to come and go secretly.

He was freezing to death but his face remained expressionless. Four patrols were also waiting for their mentor. Through the night they all heard a familiar noise. It was Hafner's private airplane.

Kempf gave the signal and the air field was lit. It was time to welcome his heartless master.

4:53 HOURS

ABOARD HAFNER'S PRIVATE AIRPLANE

The pilot was an ace of the German Luftwaffe. That's why he was chosen for this annoying but necessary task. He had flown in and out from the Netherlands hundred of times, knew the whole area very well, like the back of his hand. He didn't want to be an air taxi driver for the rest of the war but his assignment had come from high above. He didn't question his orders. It was a simple journey through occupied territory. Two Messerschmitts Bf 109E-3 were their escort but they had left them over Rotterdam. The air space was secured for the time being.

He started his descent. So far they hadn't encountered any problems. His cargo consisted of two men. The first of course was the notorious General Von Hafner. Everybody knew him. He was the one responsible for the so many victories of the German Army. At first he wanted to be part of his SS commandos but his true love was the air. But now he preferred this way of serving him. The general had trusted him with his own life. He wasn't going to let him down. The second was the general's bodyguard. A man trained by the best services of the Third Reich, he followed him everywhere he went.

The pilot switched on the landing lights and the radio.

"This is 323-BHC,over…" he whispered to the microphone. He heard only static.

Come on people, wake up down there. He repeated his call. Finally someone answered back.

"This is the tower of post 765…please identify".

"This is 323-BHC,code name Weasel, we are on final approach".

"Very well 323-BHC, you may start your landing…"

"Inform Major Kempf that General Hafner's plane has arrived… and LIGHT THE DAMNED AIRSTRIP", he told the radio operator with an authorizing voice.

"YES, SIR, RIGHT AWAY… over and out ".

On the back of the airplane a black figure smiled.

5:02 HOURS

HAFNER'S CHATEAU

NEAR SECURED PRIVATE AIR FIELD

The radio operator was scared. He had done it this time. He had fallen asleep on duty. He hoped now that the general could be preoccupied with something more important than his miserable life. He ran out of the tower and signaled the awaiting soldiers. The officer in charge saw him. In a few minutes the air strip was illuminated. The radio operator crawled back to his hiding place.

If he doesn't see me then I can come through ok, he wrongfully thought.

The Junker-52 had been here before, not during a night landing though. But the experience of the pilot was something admirable. It took only a few minutes for the pilot to make the necessary adjustments. The transporter plane, able of carrying 16 men, was too light, so all things were pretty easy.

The Junker descended slowly and the pilot aligned it for the final approach. Everything now was visible. The chateau , the tower, the airfield. He pushed his controls down and the airplane touched down with no problem. He quickly turned it on the left and abandoned the airstrip. Taxiing was also fairly easy. The Junker-52 came to a halt and the pilot unbuckled his safety belt.

"Excellent, young man".

He heard that coming from the back of the plane. It was the only recognition he needed. He stood up and saluted.

"Rest your self, I am sure that I'll need you pretty soon".

"Ja, Herr General".

The black figure lifted up from his seat and approached the door. His bodyguard had already opened it for him.

"Danke, Gupta…"

Thomas Kempf saw his superior officer coming down the airplane's ladder. Two black boots touched the ground. Hafner was a skinny man, apparently under nourished. His complexion was always pale. That was the only reason that his clothes were black. To hide a flaw, a weakness. Hafner had stomach problems. But the SS commandos had also adopted that particular color to honor their leader. And that made them a fearful opponent. His main purpose: always trying to feed the German High Command with top information on everything. It was the first time that he personally attended an interrogation of a captured spy. That meant that Kempf's under performance was even greater to him.

"ACHTUNG!" cried a sergeant. All the soldiers stood immediately at attention. "Heil Hitler!" Kempf saluted.

Hafner smiled again but totally ignored the rest of them. His role here had just begun.

"Guten Tag, Thomas… what's your progress so far?" He questioned his subordinate as he walked towards his personal car. Behind the two of them came Gupta.

"The British swine refuses to talk, Herr General. He keeps telling that his name is Christian Andersen, Sir!"

"Ah, yes… the storyteller. Anything more?"

"The British have assembled a new agency of Intelligence. Their goal maybe is to misinform us. It's name is…"

Kempf looked at the folder he was carrying.

"… MI7. MI stands for Military Intelligence perhaps".

"Those Brits, always keen on numbers and letters. What else?"

Kempf remained speechless. The trio reached the car. Gupta hurried and opened his master's door. Hafner turned and looked Kempf in the eyes. He was not pleased.

"You disappoint me, Thomas. Two weeks and that's all? Have you used all the means necessary?"

"Yes…no sir", he said apologetically.

"Use the ICE, he'll talk". Hafner got into the car and slammed the door. Gupta sat on the co driver's seat. Kempf stood by the already lowered window.

"But sir…" Kempf knew that this was the death certificate for the poor spy.

"DON'T QUESTION ME, MAJOR, DO IT!", said Hafner pissed.

"JAVOL, HERR GENERAL", he had no choice.

Kempf was about to leave when he was called again. Hafner's voice was calmer now.

"By the way, Thomas".

"Yes, Herr General?"

"The radio operator? Shoot him". It was his last request. The engine came to life and the car accelerated towards the main buildings of the chateau. It soon vanished through the trees.

Kempf remained motionless. Another insane order he was obliged to carry out.

A sergeant was standing by. Without remorse he ordered the execution.

"You heard him, Sergeant, DO IT!"

"Yes, Herr Major!"

Now it was time for the sergeant to feel uncomfortable.

5:15 HOURS

HAFNER'S CHATEAU

OUTSIDE MAIN GATE

So far all had gone according to plan. Their arrival near the ice bed, the elimination of the three man patrol, the walls, the booby trapping of the subs and two more patrols were out of the picture. Spooky thought that this was just the beginning of the good news. He was most surprised when he realized that British Intelligence had given them very accurate information. The approaching point, the air view of the area and now… the time schedule of one of the most feared men of the Third Reich. It was too much. He didn't have a clue how the British knew that. Nobody of the rest of the commandos had told him about their little operation back in '41 in the Atlantic Ocean. It was something top secret for the members involved. Tiny, Fins, Duke and Hancock had received the greatest honor their established country had to offer, the Victoria Cross, for that mission. An honor given to men posthumously. But they were not at liberty to discuss it. And they were free to wear their medal only after the end of the war. Talk about secrecy. That particular mission had indeed changed the course of the war. Their experience was very valuable for the Americans. They used it during the Cold War to achieve exactly the same thing over the Soviets. Important information. The four commandos had secured the two most precious prizes Germany had to offer at that time. An Enigma decoder and live information about the German Naval activities. That crucial information had led to major victories in the Battle of the Atlantic. If the French knew that all that happened in the middle of a naval battle then they surely would have been more surprised than Spooky was now.

"Our guest has arrived", he said, as he dispersed his thoughts.

"That seems to be quite true", answered Duke. He had seen the airplane from afar with his scope.

"The markings on the plane fill the profile…that's the Weasel", the sniper concluded.

"How did you know that?"

He got no reply. Soon Hancock joined them. He was soaked. Those subs were hard to booby trap. But his promise had been kept. They would sink fairly easy.

"Ok, let's move out…I'll take care of the gate. When I give the signal you move in!"

Spooky left them there, hiding by the trees. Yes, all had gone according to plan. That last patrol was pretty hard to eliminate but Fins and him had pulled it over. He walked casually towards the main gate of Hafner's fortress. Two guards, stationed on the left and on the right of the gate.

Too simple, he believed. He saluted and entered the fortress. His beliefs were right. A few yards away, by the road, a check point was guarding too the main gate. Spooky decided to stroll around for a bit. He turned on the left. Pretty soon he saw their second target, the SS Commandos Unit Camp, guarded by no less than four patrols. These were the men trained to come face to face with the Allied commandos. His most feared opponent, no doubt about that . He felt a bit strange, he smiled as he considered the irony of the matter.

Finally we meet at last, dear friends.

He saluted again and entered the camp. This suicide mission had turned just now into a walk through the park.

5:37 HOURS

HAFNER'S CHATEAU

INSIDE SECURITY PERIMETER

Duchamp knew now everything he needed to know. The problem was that it had taken too much valuable time. Everything needed to be over before sunrise, or someone was going to discover a dead body, sooner or later. An alarm set off would make all things difficult. He went inside the check point. A surprised German soldier saluted.

"Carry on, seen any action around here?"

"No sir, excuse me but I need to see some kind of identification. If you don't mind…" Said the soldier in his most polite manner. Spooky's Gestapo uniform was hard to miss.

"But of course, my young man. It's your duty to ask these things. And I congratulate you on your courage. Here you go".

Spooky provided a folded paper from his gabardine.

"Thank you, sir!" He took the paper and was about to unfold it.

"Are you married, my fellow?"

"Eh, no sir…" He said almost without thinking. The young soldier didn't understand the purpose of the question and was more puzzled when he unfolded the paper. It was blank.

"Good…" Duchamp had already in his right hand his new pistol, a Walther P.38, equipped with a silencer. It was an excellent service pistol. Robust, hard - wearing and very accurate. And at this range lethal. Surely it was much better than the Luger of the Wehrmacht. One shot was enough.

The blow was immense to the young soldier. The single bullet smashed through his chest. His dead body jerked backwards and fell. Blood painted the ground.

"A Dieu, mon ami, you will not be missed…"

The gate was cleared a few minutes after that incident.

5:22 HOURS

HAFNER'S CHATEAU

MAIN CELLS AREA

He was feeling uncomfortable. To execute the order…it was something he had never thought before. But orders were orders. His superior officer had ordered him to penetrate the German U-boat bases in Bordeaux and get an account of the submarines listed there. He knew the risks involved. A simple reconnaissance mission. Which had resulted in total failure. He was of course the chief tactician of the MI6, that's why he was sent in. To search apparent targets for annihilation . Not an easy job but someone always got to do it. Now he was held captive, somewhere in the Netherlands, he thought. He recognized the hard climate. These past few weeks were a pure hell. His luck had run out the moment he was captured. If it wasn't for those cursed double agents. Their lips are always cold, he reminded himself and smiled. Normally it was his time to take tea. But for ten days he was fed drugs and liquids. He felt pretty tired. He had a severe headache. They had turned off all the lights in the room and he was surrounded by an unfamiliar darkness. He felt cold somehow, precisely very cold. It was as if they had put him in a freezer. But it wasn't the cold that was killing him. He felt…no, he knew that he was drugged. He stretched his hand and touched his shoulder. He recognized some unfamiliar marks…needle marks. That explained his lack of power. He remembered one last detail of the room he was in. It wasn't painted. Anyone could see the bricks, even the cement that was used to stick them together. Why he remembered that detail he wasn't sure. His mind was playing a cruel game. For example he felt now that he was hearing noises…maybe footsteps. But nobody was opening the door. Or so his mind made him think that.

Kempf felt sorry about the poor bastard. Dying like this wasn't pleasant. But he had instructed the soldiers accordingly. The prisoner was hanged by the neck , barefooted, into several blocks of ice. The poor soul didn't know why he felt cold. He thought it was the room. But actually it was pure ice. The drugs made him ignore the pain. He was in some kind of ecstasy.

"Herr General, I must protest… we need him alive!" Kempf said finally.

"Do you want to disobey me…again Herr Major?" it was a cold response.

"No Herr General…but…" he wasn't aloud to finish his sentence.

"THEN DON'T! WE DO NOT NEED HIM. HE NEEDS US!"

It was the end of the argument.

"IF HE DIES THEN LET HIM DIE! There is no room for the fainted heart here, Kempf, remember that."

Hafner quitted the ancient dungeon and headed for the upper rooms. Gupta was behind him.

" I must apologize, my friend. This wasn't meant to be. If he wishes to talk alert me immediately", he said to the guard and left the cell. Kempf knew that all would be soon over.

The British spy understood that despite the drugs. He was finished. Next to the blocks of ice lay the dead body of a radio operator.

5:42 HOURS

HAFNER'S CHATEAU

NEAR SECURED PRIVATE AIRFIELD

As soon as the gate was cleared all the commandos sneaked in. Now all that was left was to secure a getaway and the prisoner. All the rest were done.

Tiny and Brooklyn had scaled the outer walls, thankfully there were ladders now, in order to get closer to the airfield. The airfield was guarded by a single patrol and a tank. The main problem was the tank, a Panzerkampfwagen III Ausf G, better known as Panzer III, armed with a 50-mm gun. This type of tank had been used in the Poland and France campaigns. They had seen two more. One outside the main gate, guarding the road to the south and one near the SS Commandos Unit camp. Troubles they had to avoid for the time being but when all hell would break loose they had to be dealt with. These tanks always had a crew of three, so for an experienced commando that was not a problem.

"Wow!" Brooklyn saw for the first time all the dead bodies piled up together.

"Keep your voice down you bastard, we are in an observation zone!" Tiny was really mad.

"Sorry… And I thought that I was in danger. How do you cope?"

"With what?" He was angry now.

"With death?" the driver asked nicely.

"As we Americans say, shit happens… now move on".

They climbed down a northeast ladder and moved near the tank. Crawling of course. The crew was taking a break. The leader was smoking his pipe and had a gentle conversation with the gunner while the driver was relaxing by reading a German newspaper. It was the moment they had been waiting for. All enemies distracted.

"Ja, naturlicht, Sigfrid. That poor operator. They shot him just like that. I cannot imagine what he had done ", he let out a puff of smoke.

"Are you sure? Who was it?"

"Don't know. I don't have the foggiest idea. But to die like that, by your own comrades…its awful, man."

"Yes, I agree…its…"

Suddenly he saw Sigfrid , who was standing in front of him, lean forward. His leader captured him on the air.

"What is it, man, don't tell me you are drunk?"

The tank leader saw the reason of his partner's unconsciousness. It was an army knife, stuck to his back. He felt a hard blow on his head and dropped on the ground. That was all he remembered when the Gestapo, the real Gestapo questioned him after the attack.

Tiny picked his knife from the dead soldier, cleaned it on his army fatigues and picked the body. Soon next to the airfield's hangar two men, one dead, one unconscious and handcuffed, were placed out of view.

"I'll wait here till you guys finish up. We need all the fire power we can get."

"Suit yourself. I'll take care of the pilot inside", it was Tiny's last word.

They split up.

Sam climbed the tank and popped his head down the turret. The driver was still reading his newspaper. He felt a cold breeze. He lost interest on the news at hand, lowered the newspaper and saw two eyes of a man upside down staring at him.

"Sorry, forgot to knock".

Brooklyn produced his club and the German tank driver fell back from the strike.

The Green Beret sneaked inside the hangar. He observed the German Junker-52 sitting quietly in the top left corner of the hangar. A few feet away the pilot was taking a nap. It was not difficult for Tiny to wake him up.

Meanwhile, Spooky and Fins had other work to do. A few minutes ago Spooky had helped Fireman place the explosive devices inside the unit camp. He had accomplished that by sending the patrols in a wild goose chase near the South West wall. That way he provided a clear path to their expert. Hancock had done the run of his life. Carefully he placed the remote control devices near the buildings of the camp and run back to his hiding place. Nobody had seen him enter or leave the German Base. This was good news. As they progressed towards the main building of the Chateau, Hafner's hideout, he placed some pressure booby traps on the road and near the trees of the chateau, just in case.

But right now Spooky had stopped the patrol in front of the main building. And he was coming short on discussion subjects.

"Yes, of course Sergeant. I am aware that you have a job to do. I want to see your performance with my own eyes. Do you understand?"

"I do understand… but why the delay? I can show you around as we patrol."

The net was obviously a good idea. And it was thrown on time. The four men, including the sergeant, were taken by surprise.

"Finally, this conversation was getting out of hand."

The French Spy checked to see if he had enough of that lethal fluid and injected all the men caught in the fishnet. Too many bodies, too little time.

"Where the hell is O'Hara? And where did Duke go?"

He couldn't wait. He started picking the bodies and hiding them away. Soon Fins and Hancock joined him. Fins picked up his fishnet and placed it in his backpack.

Tiny placed the handcuffed pilot near the dead body of First Gunnery Sergeant Sigfrid Kennel. He recognized a brave soldier when he saw one. And now the German pilot, although dispensable – they had been informed that the British Spy was a pilot too – could be useful, if the spy was unable to pilot the aircraft. But his look in his eyes meant also trouble, something Tiny would make sure didn't happen. He left him there and ran back the same way he came.

Brooklyn was sitting quietly and reading the German newspaper… on top of the handcuffed German tank driver inside the tank. The German was still unconscious. The patrol was strolling as usual around the airfield and didn't have a clue of what was going on inside the chateau. Reading the German

newspaper was a figure of speech of course as Sam didn't know zip of German. But he was good at looking pictures. And now he was seeing what kept the unconscious driver busy. A picture of an exotic naked woman. He cursed aloud.

"Damn, what does it say here? Where is a dictionary when you need one? What is your name, Miss…?" he questioned the picture.

6:02 HOURS

HAFNER'S CHATEAU

NEAR THE MAIN VILLA

Tiny approached the trio with careful steps. Soon Duke joined them.

"Where have you two been? It'll be daylight soon!"

"Don't yell sir, we did a reconnaissance of the area."

"I did that a few minutes ago!!" Spooky was upset for the delay.

"I beg your pardon but did you check inside the villa? Sir??"

Duchamp had totally forgotten about that one. Being more concerned of getting them all in he hadn't made a plan for the last phase of the operation. His temper cooled down.

"Good thinking, Sergeant."

He turned towards Duke.

"What did you find out?"

"I crawled near the outside defense perimeter of the villa. Too many patrols chap, at least four, maybe more…" Duke pointed where he had seen them.

"Two guards outside the main gate, two more inside and from what I saw through the windows two more guards inside the villa, guarding the front door. That's all to report sir…"

"Tactics, gentlemen. What do you suggest ?"

He was rewarded with a silence.

"C'mon people, we ain't in no fuckin' training camp here. I need your brains."

It was the first time that Spooky made clear that he relied on all of his men to get this over with. That lessened a lot of the tension.

"If I may say so, sir, why don't we all bring them here, out in the open." It was Fins call.

"Let's do that."

6:06 HOURS

HAFNER'S CHATEAU

MAIN VILLA

"What is this? What kind of drill?"

"Don't know but that Gestapo dude looked pretty concerned."

The two soldiers had abandoned their posts as ordered and now they were running towards the south forest of the chateau. Unexpectedly they met two more soldiers. Klein identified one of them.

"You too? What's going on?"

The other soldiers looked more puzzled than the first.

"Don't know. A Gestapo officer told us to come here and look for bad guys."

"Yes, that's right. He said that he had seen some shadows down here, belonging to the enemy…" ,the second soldier added.

"If you want my opinion he must be nuts. Who could come here, with all the security we have? It doesn't make any sense."

"I say do we must do and head home. I'm pretty bored, and someone was going to relive us in a few minutes. Damn for Gestapo!"

All the soldiers agreed on that last comment.

They walked for a few minutes, searching in vain but found nothing. They decided to go back but something unpredictable had happened.

"Where did Klein go? Did you see him?"

"Don't know man. Wasn't he following us?"

"I thought he was behind you," the other soldier tried to explain.

"DAMN HIM, damn the Gestapo. I am going to miss my beauty sleep for this."

The other two soldiers laughed.

"It's not a joke, you miserable… why am I talking to you anyway? I'll go and find him myself. And beat the shit out of him."

He moved his right foot to the left and froze. A click was heard. They stopped laughing.

"MINE!!!"

The soldier who had run against the mine did what he wasn't supposed to do in these situations. He moved out of fear. He died first.

The mine wasn't of course a regular mine, but one of Hancock's smart devices. It let out a small amount of smoke, nearly to confuse the victims and sprung very sharp metal objects outward. The nails were lethal in a range of fifty meters, maybe more, Hancock wasn't sure.

The man standing on top of the mine received the greatest amount of the "explosion". His face wasn't recognizable afterwards.

The soldier on the left took some shrapnel in the gut. He bled to death. The third soldier was more lucky. A fragment tore his heart apart and some other vital organs. He died instantaneously.

Two figures moved with military precision and moved the bodies or what was left of them out of the way.

"Ok gentlemen, let's pay a visit to Mr. Weasel over there!"

The brave men laughed. It was a warm and enthusiastic laugh, out of the blue. And they surely needed. Operation "Yanus" was nearly over.

CHAPTER 4

LICENCE TO KILL

6:32 HOURS

HAFNER'S CHATEAU

PASS THE FRONT GATE, MAIN HALL

Three men just walked in. He had never seen them before, but they all were wearing German uniforms. So he assumed that they were the reliving party.

They looked odd in a way, Gutenach thought. One of them was too muscular to be a soldier of the SS commandos. His uniform was obvious that was too small for him. The other two, well, they too didn't look very German like. The one had a big mustache similar to what a British would have. The other one was unshaved and had a darker complexion than a normal German soldier would. It was very strange this sudden intrusion. Gutenach remembered that reliving parties came from within the castle, from the three garrisons stationed there. Not from the outside. He made a friendly gesture towards the incoming soldiers. But his suspicions alerted the two other soldiers, his fellow mates, who were guarding also the main hall of the chateau. He approached the intruders carefully, tightening his grip around his rifle. The other soldiers did the same.

"Was ist das? Wie heisen sie?"

The three newcomers did not speak. Gutenach remained calm. He then saw a Gestapo officer entering the main hall. The officer made a move towards him.

"Gutten Morgen!" The officer said gently.

"Gutten Morgen. Ich bin ein…" Gutenach never saw it coming. The same thing happened to the other soldiers. From the coat of the Gestapo officer a pistol was introduced which hit him at close range. The bullet entered his heart and blew it up. Only a soft sound was heard. The soldier standing by the stairs leading to the upper rooms caught a military knife right in the forehead. His blood spilled all over the expensive wooden ladder. The third soldier, the one standing near the door panicked and tried to run outside. A harpoon hit him in the back, breaking his spinal column. He fell dead on the floor, still holding the doorknob.

"Put them in there." The spy said pointing to an attic below the stairs. The Green Beret did as he was told.

"Let's hope now that the blue prints were correct. Or else we are doomed!"

Frenchy's statement was for the blueprints a contact of the Dutch Resistance had acquired for them. It was a new member of the Dutch Resistance that Frenchy had not tested up, close and personal. Spooky was reluctant to believe or to use any kind of information coming from new members but in this case he had no choice. All he knew was her - yes, she was a female spy – nickname, Lips. After this mission Spooky will believe undeniably that the Dutch contact had done a magnificent job. How she came in possession of these documents, he did not know. But to find them this fast and to deliver them at the right time was a blessing.

"You three take care of our friend. Tiny and I have a business to attend to."

"Ok, boss. Whatever you say!"

Two teams were now inside the German castle, Spooky and Tiny went after the general while the three others tried to find the captured spy.

6:33 HOURS

HAFNER'S CHATEAU

DUNGEON AREA

He felt like choking. He realized that a rope was keeping him from breathing. The ice was melting, slowly and painfully. The drugs had wore off by now, it had been a few hours since his last dosage. As the plans of the Germans had changed so did their attitude towards him. No more drugs meant now that he completely understood what was causing his insufferable pain.

He was going to black out, he was extremely sure about that.

"The pain…the pain…pain…" He mumbled the words. It was going to be his last day on Earth. He already thought that he was dead. Nobody had answered his calls for help all the past few days. All that he remembered were faces of his loved ones. His parents, long passed away and of his girlfriend, a beautiful woman of the age of twenty-two. A child he considered her. But he loved her deeply. Then he remembered his parents' home. A typical home built in the English countryside, but still it was his home. The place where he grew up, learned the meaning of life and the meaning of love. All past memories now.

One man alone cannot fight the future. He resented that statement. He thought that it takes only one man to start a war and another to finish it. Sure, the future was unpredictable, but man always has the opportunity to predict it, to change it, to alter it. Nothing is predetermined. There is no such thing as a goddess of Fate. It was his Oxford education that was doing the talking or in this case the thinking. He loved ancient wars and he adored the spiritualism that Thucydides had brought in the process of history writing. The ancient times had taught us too many things. We keep forgetting them.

He never understood why in the motivating powers of history Thucydides never included the oracles. He remembered his old and gone now University professor saying:

"The Powers, the motivating factors of History, according to the ancient historian are fobos-fear, timi-honor and ofeleia-profit. In this typical model of history writing the gods do not belong."

Was Thucydides an atheist? Frankly he didn't care right now. Knowing so strongly that he was about to die he wanted to make his peace with God. He knew that he had killed people in order to prevent other people being killed. Was he a murderer? Could he be forgiven? Soon he was going to find out for himself.

A light blinded him. He was certain, his judgement day had arrived. He barely saw some shapes from afar. Death angels, they have come to take me. It's about time. At least I stood up for what I believed. I pray now for my sins to be forgiven.

"Thank you God for everything." He whispered.

A friendly hand snatched him back to life.

6:33 HOURS

HAFNER'S CHATEAU

INNER NORTH WALL

He was sitting now, silent and calm. It was his decision to have the others look for the spy while he was waiting for the right opportunity. As soon as the hall was cleared he went back to his pre assigned place.

He had practiced over and over for these situations but the real thing was always different than hitting a paper target from a distance of three hundred yards. The reason, that although from afar he always knew that it was his will that was ending the life of a human being, even if this being was a cold blooded son of a bitch and an enemy of his country he had sworn to protect. Reality was never distorted in these situations. He imagined the victim falling from the blow of the rifle…his rifle and trying to grasp for a breath of air. Red wasn't his favorite color. He always thought of green or brown to be appropriate. It was their neutrality that excited him. Green, the color of sweet mother nature. And brown, the color of trees. The combination was making him feel relaxed and focused. Something his life and his enemy's death relied upon.

He was one of Britain's finest marksmen. His name: Sir Francis T. Woolrigde. He carried a title he never wished for and in the long run, a title that had no meaning whatsoever. A brilliant career as an Olympic athlete and a gold medal winner had ended due to a silly injury. And then his life changed as his country went to war against an opponent they had already beaten up a few years back. It was history repeating itself. The irony of ironies . The First World War, the war that was going to end all wars. Who came up with that stupid idea? And then World War Two came and changed everything. If it wasn't for this bloody war his sister would have been alive today.

He felt again the grip around his precision rifle, a custom made Winchester three-o-three with a sniper's scope. A classic piece of military equipment . This hand made piece of hardware was outstanding. It wasn't a rifle made in England. The Americans knew more about guns than anybody in the world. But the British had the best training agencies in the world. He wished to be a part of Britain's Special Air Service Regiment, an elite military unit formed in the North African Desert by David Stirling in 1941. But he was going to consider that after the war, because now he was deeply committed to the Commandos. He didn't have the courage to abandon them and go somewhere else.

In his vest two bullets remained. These bullets weren't ordinary bullets. The British had specially developed them for these kinds of operations. They were hollow point boat-tailed match bullets, bullets able to kill…no… to blow up a person's brain in a matter of seconds. It was an execution; for Duke it was a fair one. One of those bullets had Hafner's name on it. The other was just a precaution, if the first missed. He was trained to kill these 'subjects', as he used to call them. The missing part was not an option and till this mission this hadn't happened. He couldn't allow that to happen. He wasn't going to mess up with tradition and a perfect killing score.

He removed the black glove from his left hand and touched the bullets. He pressed his thump on the tip of one of them and tried to imagine the pain of having one of them stuck into your brain. It wasn't a pretty sight.

He was positioned on top of the inner North wall of the chateau, having a nice picture of the whole scenery. The spy had removed all opposition from the watch towers. He was completely alone.

In front of him he could clearly see Hafner's study. The general wasn't visiting often so the curtains were drawn; probably by a faithful servant. Inside the room he had already spotted three men. One of them was Hafner's lackey, a watch dog guarding him from peril. He had clear targets on all of them. He placed Hafner's head inside his crosshair reticle and imagined pulling the trigger.

"Boom, one out," he thought.

Man was a predator, he always played two very important roles, the role of the hunter and the role of the prey. Now he was the hunter and an unaware general was the prey.

6:22 HOURS

CLASSIFIED MILITARY INSTALLATION

GERMAN SECURITY CAMP

Sergeant Altmark was concerned. The patrol had left two hours ago, and no one had reported back in. He didn't want to alert the whole camp with only a hunch to back it up. So he waited for twenty minutes or so. But his instincts told him otherwise. Time was precious now so he sent a few soldiers to investigate. Rain had completely disappeared by now so carefully examining the patrol's route was an easy task. He was more puzzled when the soldiers returned. No one had seen anything. The patrol had disappeared without a trace.

Could it be…no…that cannot be. This is a highly secured classified military outpost. How could the Allies know? His suspicions grew wilder when he saw men missing from their designated posts. This was a tough decision to make.

"Alert the men but do not sound the alarm yet. I need some checking to do first!"

"Javol, Herr commander" replied a proud soldier and headed towards the barracks.

Altmark turned towards the radio operator of the camp.

"Connect me to the switch board. I must talk to someone in charge."

"Ja, Herr commander. You may pick up line three."

Altmark unhooked the telephone and spoke with a calm voice.

"Center, this is Sergeant Altmark, I must speak to a high ranking officer."

The control operator was too busy for this kind of distraction. A lot of messages were relayed to and forth from here to Berlin. He replied unwillingly:

"Who do you want, Sergeant? Be specific."

Altmark had only one choice.

"Connect me to Major Kempf's office, bitte."

"Herr Kempf is with General Hafner right now. I'll connect you with the General's office. Wait a minute…"

Altmark didn't know that Hafner had arrived from Berlin.

Shit, he thought. Not the General. At least Kempf was a reasonable man. Hafner was something completely different. An intrusion like this could cost Altmark's life. The phone rang a few times. It was an eternity for Altmark. Unusually he heard a gentle voice through the other end.

"This is General Hafner. To whom am I speaking?"

Altmark cleared his voice and spoke:

"I am sorry to disturb you, Herr General, I wasn't informed of your arrival. I am Sergeant Altmark…"

Altmark believed now that he would hear an order issued of his death for the apparent disturbance. Instead the voice on the other end remained calm.

"What is it Sergeant?"

"I would like to talk to Major Kempf, please for a matter…"

"You can tell ME, Sergeant!"

Altmark coughed, apparently dissatisfied with the response he got.

"Ehhh… a patrol hasn't reported…and I…would like further instructions on how to proceed. SIR."

"Do nothing. I'll see to it personally. Wait for an officer of mine to arrive. Carry on Sergeant!"

The line went dead. Altmark could not believe how fortunate he was. No threat, no swearing, no nothing. Was General Hafner in a good mood? He didn't know, he didn't want to know. All was fine. He gave the telephone to the radio operator and went to the bathroom of the building. He saw the reflection of himself in the mirror. He sighed. He couldn't believe that he had spoken to the boss of the SS like that and escaped alive. Only Viemer was so emotional sometimes. But he had a wife to look for on the way back.

"Why God, why are you doing this to me?" he asked himself.

There was no response. He glanced at the mirror one last time. He looked like hell.

"Ok, let's wait, no harm done in that."

He washed his face and came out a new man. He even smiled as he headed towards the barracks to stand his men down. It was the first time he had spoken to the face of death and won. Little did he know that his General was facing death right about now, shaped in a form of a pistol.

6:30 HOURS

HAFNER'S CHATEAU

DUNGEON AREA

Two figures moved carefully through the halls. One of them was holding something like a map. It was the layout of the 'Schloss Hafner', Hafner's castle.

Although in reality it belonged to a noble Dutch family of the 17^th century, it was renamed after the occupation of Holland by the Axis. Hafner liked the cold environment here. A perfect place for a lonely being. It was mainly the fresh air and the proximity of the sea, the easiest escape route in case of an emergency. He had also constructed an airfield to make it easier to come and go through Nazi Germany. It was a natural heaven, spoiled now by the monstrosities of Hafner's SS commandos upon the local people. Pretty soon the area around the castle and the docks was evacuated, as the local element was forced to abandon its proper home. The Third Reich did not care about the local peasants. Its mission was to bring 'order' in a society of chaos. That was the only goal of the Arian race. All it had brought was misery, sorrow and unending grief. This World War was going to be remembered as the bloodiest of them all.

Fins removed his trusted knife from his sheath. It still had some blood marks from the previous encounters. He prepared himself for the unexpected. They both wore German uniforms but they really were out of place.

"Are you sure?"

A nod was enough. Hancock stepped forward, opened the ancient wooden door and he was greeted by a fellow German soldier looking the right way, on the other end of the hall. At first the soldier didn't pay any attention to Fireman. For him, it was another soldier walking around the castle. The stranger moved forward and placed himself directly in front of the young soldier, but facing the other side. That way the soldier didn't have a clear look on the opened door. When he spoke, that was the moment that the German soldier went for his weapon. Hancock with his best Scottish accent (he was from Liverpool but he did great impersonations) startled the German:

"Hello laddy, I am here for the tapestries."

"AMERICANER?"

The soldier went for his weapon but it was too late. The able hands of the marine seized him from the back and the trusted knife slashed through his long throat, tearing apart the warm flesh of the young man. It was a horrible death, but at least it wasn't one of the Commandos. They surely suffered a lot when they were captured by the enemy. Fins let the soulless body fall gently on the stone floor.

"Americaner? I thought that the Germans were clever enough to distinguish a Scot from an American, any time. It's a pity."

"What next?"

Hancock checked the map. He pointed the markings to Fins.

"We are here… and we need to go there."

"That was the last hall before the dungeons. We must be pretty close."

"Yes…" Hancock checked the room for moisture. He saw in the middle of the room a small pool of brown water.

"Let's follow the pipes. They lead down below."

"What about him?" Hancock pointed to the dead soldier.

"No time. The spy is a priority now!"

With that both men opened another ancient door-this one was made of metal- and started to follow a staircase leading to the lower rooms of the castle.

6:33 HOURS

HAFNER'S CHATEAU

NEAR CELL 19

The guard was asleep. Next to him a bottle of German beer was laying on the table, empty. That was a good sign. In a glass case above the guard's head the Diver saw a large selection of keys…cell keys, no doubt. With another gesture Fins told Hancock to proceed into the cells. The guard was his matter to worry now.

What took only a few seconds seemed to Hancock like ages. The guard never stopped dreaming. As he dreamt he had placed his whole upper body on the table. In that way it was easy for the Diver to kill him. Fins removed for a hundredth time his knife and put it inside the back of the poor fellow's skull, destroying his oblong cortex for all eternity. The guard died on the spot. At least he died quickly and silently. The body jerked for a few seconds, then stopped moving.

"Sssshhhh, quiet, let's not disturb the others." Fins told his victim.

Fins left the dead guard seated in his chair and quickly opened the glass case. He search the keys, trying to find the correct one. Then out of frustration he removed all of them and tossed the half to Fins.

"Start searching, we have only a few minutes!"

The two figures started the hunt to find their compatriot.

6:35 HOURS

HAFNER'S CHATEAU

OUTSIDE HAFNER'S STUDY

Two guards-SS commandos equipped with Smeicher submachine guns were positioned outside Hafner's study. Hafner's security detail was good but not that good. He had actually more guards in his dining room instead of his office. There were three garrisons inside Hafner's villa, a total of 72 men, not including the guards and the patrols outside the villa. A perfect impenetrable fortress located a few miles away from Holland's seashore. In a case of an emergency all units would rush out and head to the bunkers inside the castle. Nothing could destroy this ancient shelter. Only a bomb from within would have the sufficient power to destroy this aged momentum of the Netherlands' old history. That was Fireman's duty.

Spooky approached the two guards confidently. He was a Gestapo officer after all. Both of them saluted. He returned the salute by rising his left hand. Something both soldiers found odd. But they were too slow to understand the reason.

"HEIL HITLER!"

Spooky had placed his pistol inside his gabardine's right side pocket. He fired twice at each man just to make sure. Both soldiers were taken by surprise. The silencer made sure that everything that was heard was four simple puffs. Tiny moved quickly behind the closed double doors, still holding the rifle he had taken from the dead soldier. They had not enough time.

Spooky knocked on the door and entered without waiting for somebody inside the study to answer back.

"Was? Was ist das? What's the meaning of this?" the voice of an annoyed General Hafner was heard. Spooky recognized him immediately from the archived pictures. He looked older now, more corrupted… no… more worn out by the war. But he was still a man who had executed a lot of the agents of the French Resistance. For that reason alone he deserved to die. Spooky searched the room.

Damn, where is he? One man was missing from the room. It was Hafner's trusted bodyguard, Gupta. He spoke fluently in German:

"Where is your bodyguard, General?"

"What do you mean? Who are you and what do you want?"

"What does a Gestapo officer doing here?" asked Kempf, also annoyed by this man's attitude.

Damn, DAMN, DAMN! No time to think. Not enough time to think. If they had suspected that they were here then his trusted sheep dog would not have been missing. Spooky changed his face expression from a puzzled one to a more serious, quite deadly look. He spoke in his most perfect English accent; not required to let them think that he was a Frenchman.

"Allow me to introduce myself! I am Officer Fritz and this is my lovely friend!"

He revealed his P.38. Both men realized now that they had to deal with an enemy of the Third Reich.

Tiny stormed into the room and closed both doors. Next he pointed his rifle into Kempf's face. Kempf swallowed hard.

"Forget to tell you about my other friend, Sorry!"

"You do know that you are not going to leave this place alive!" Said Hafner in a strange English accent, trying to keep up the appearances of an unafraid man.

"You'll be dead by then. Now I'll repeat this once more. Where is he?"

Tiny looked at Spooky. They exchanged some non verbal reaction.

SHIT, someone is missing. WHO? Tiny tried to think.

" My… bodyguard has gone to the dining room, he'll arrive shortly!" It was Hafner's last chance to make them see their hopeless situation. He still thought that they would surrender. His remark worked differently.

After this a lot of heads are going to roll! He still believed that he would survive this. Actually his best chance of reinforcements to arrive was the radio operator, whom he had executed a few minutes ago. But no radio operator meant no air cover of the chateau in a case of a bomb raid. Hafner's greatest power was his downfall.

"Good!" Spooky managed to say without revealing his distress.

We are now in the point of no return. Shit, I hate when that happens.

All of a sudden the telephone rang. Hafner reached to grab the receiver. Spooky pointed his gun at the General.

"Careful NOW, I speak perfect German! You don't want this exploding at your face!"

Hafner, tongue tied, let the phone ring a few more times. Then he lifted it and heard the other person.

"Ja, what is it?"

"General Hafner, this is center. Someone at the security camp wants a high ranking officer."

"Put him through."

"Javol, Herr General!"

A click was heard and the line opened.

"This is General Hafner. To whom am I speaking?"

6:33 HOURS

HAFNER'S CHATEAU

CELL 19

"Is he a goner?"

"No, don't think so." Said Hancock as he unlocked cell 19. Finally they had found the correct cell and the right key to open it.

"Oh man. Look what the bastards did to him!" Fins looked at the blocks of ice and the small pool of water they had created.

"Let's get him out of there."

"Remember the clothes," Hancock added.

"I've got them right here, mate."

Both commandos entered the cold room and approached the unfortunate spy. Fins extended his right hand and touched the poor soul on the shoulder. Then they both tried and successfully cut him down.

"Thank you God for everything."

"What is he mumbling about?" asked Hancock with a puzzled look on his face.

"He was choked to death and he is delirious from the ice. He needs warm clothes! This has happened to me lots of times."

"Here you go, my poor man."

They both dragged him out of the cell and into the corridor.

"Take care of the rest of the business."

Fins grabbed the spy with his both hands, placed him on the floor and started dressing him with the clothes of the dead guard. They weren't much but at least the guard's outfit was warmer than the one the spy had. And it was necessary for them not to attract attention while leaving the villa and the old castle.

"Sure do!" Hancock took out his last bomb. This one was a time bomb exactly alike with one he had used in Norway, to blow up another German headquarters.

He placed it inside the cell. It had the proper amount of explosive material to destroy the half of Hafner's private villa, thus destroying in the process two of the three garrisons stationed there. Hancock then took the spy's clothes and dressed with them the dead guard.

"He must be pretty tired. I heard that they crack spies by using sleep deprivation. We can not use him as a pilot." Fins did a correct observation.

"Tiny has got a back up plan. Don't worry!"

"Who's he?" Hancock saw for the first time the dead body of an uniformed soldier lying near the ice.

"Don't know. An unlucky sob obviously. He looks like his head was dislocated from his body. You need Tiny's strength to do that!"

"I tremble at the thought… the bomb is set. We have ten minutes from now."

"Have you used the correct charge?"

"I always do my friend. Now we must go or we'll miss the fireworks! Permanently!"

"Fine with me. Let's move."

They picked the unconscious body up and quickly tried to reach the upper rooms of the building. The clock of the bomb was ticking now and nothing could prevent it from stopping. It was easy to go and find their way back. The guards now were not a problem. Unfortunately except one. He had decided to pay a visit to the soldier guarding the hall overlooking to both the corridors to the garrison and to the cells. As they opened the gate door leading to the dungeon the soldier opened the gate door leading to the second garrison of the villa. It was an unfortunate coincidence. A misfortune struck both parties.

The young German soldier was stunned seeing his comrade dead and a few feet away the commandos who killed him. Those few seconds were enough for the marine to react with deadly force. The knife moved in his hands faster than the eyes of the German soldier. The marine threw it with elaborate precision. The knife went through the air and it was stuck in the head of the German soldier, just right between the eyes. He went down with a thump. Before the dead body reached the ground Fins moved and closed the door behind him. Nobody had seen anything. He removed the knife from the corpse, put it back where it belonged and they continued their walk towards the entrance. They reached the main hall just in time.

There they met both their fellow Commandos running back down the expensive wooden staircase. Spooky and Tiny were worried. Hancock had to ask :

"What's going on?"

Spooky answered with a single word.

"TROUBLE!!"

6:43 HOURS

HAFNER'S CHATEAU

NEAR SECURED PRIVATE AIRFIELD

Brooklyn didn't have to wait for the rest of the fireworks. The Alarm had sounded as the first rays of the sun covered the German tank standing close to the airfield.

He quickly grabbed the machine gun of the tank and pointed at the running patrol.

"Its about time! Let's see some action!" He squeezed the trigger once and the powerful weapon came to life. The single burst hit the ground close to the patrol. Then he pressed it harder. More bursts came out of the weapon towards the unsuspected soldiers. The bullets struck the sergeant on the shoulder and near the stomach. Blood spilled all over the place. The rest of the soldiers were cut in half.

Sam next pointed his Colt 45 on the back of the driver's head.

"MOVE! START THE ENGINE! AND NO MESSING AROUND, FIRSTEN?"

The scared driver of the tank simply made a nod and turned on the ignition. The angry machine of the Panzerkampfwagen III Ausf G was heard throughout the forsaken airfield. The tank moved forwards for a few meters, then under the directions of Sam Brooklyn it turned on the left and blocked the only entrance towards the airfield. The turret started spinning around and the 50mm cannon stopped and faced the incoming road. Through the tank's binoculars Tiny saw men hurrying around the second Panzer III stationed inside the chateau. That tank started moving towards the chateau, then stopped as a large explosion, the third one in the morning, was heard deep behind the trees, inside the German SS Commandos camp. A lot of the Germans were now confused. Some of the German soldiers moved towards the chateau, others towards the SS camp and other ran to the bunkers, thinking that an air raid was happening. Soon only the last soldiers had predicted the correct outcome of the situation.

"Damn. No more turkeys to shoot at. Well never mind. I have a tank to take care of!"

The driver loaded a shell into the tank's cannon, calculated the distance and then fired the deadly weapon. The shell landed a few meters off course, near the position of the post Spooky had paid a visit earlier. Three soldiers were now inside and two more were running towards it when the projectile hit. The post blew up and it was enwrapped pretty soon in red flames. The three soldiers died instantly. One of the running soldiers lost his left foot while the other lost his head by the blast. Some of their comrades tried to help them in vain. The crew of the tank saw now that it was one of their tanks that had started the firing – they thought that this tank was the reason for the explosion in the camp - and started to move towards the trees for cover. They were a few seconds late.

"Shit! Sure thing! I forgot the bloody wind!"

As the rain had calmed down and completely disappeared a very strong wind came from the sea and ripped apart the whole area around and inside the chateau. Sam was siting inside the tank all this time and had not felt the change on the outside. Brooklyn loaded another shell, did a minor adjustment on the target's position and fired again. Before that last one hit the ground he loaded again and fired in order to seize any incoming attacks.

The first shot hit right on target. The turret was ripped apart in a million tiny pieces, taking with it the tank's commander. Then the second shot came, blowing up the remainder of the tank, plus two more soldiers who happened to be close by. Some fragments reached some barrels placed close by and a few more explosions disturbed the entire area.

Still some brave but stupid soldiers ran towards Sam's tank while others tried to reach the chateau. Few of them were holding antitank bazookas. Another fire echoed through the daylight and hit near the incoming soldiers. One of the soldiers was too close to that last explosion. And he was carrying an antitank missile. This explosion was followed by another explosion, that one of the missile. The death of seven soldiers was imminent. Number eight, the leader of them and the only man surviving the explosions lost his sight permanently. A few that came close to Sam's tank but didn't have the firepower to overcome their enemy were quickly wiped out by the tank's machine guns.

Through the smoke Brooklyn was able to see something moving with enormous speed towards his position. It looked like a car. The car went on a zig zag trying to avoid incoming fire.

"What now? The fuckers, are they insane or what?"

He loaded another shell and was about to fire when he saw through the binoculars who the driver was.

"Well, I'll be damned. I would love to toast you! But you are on my side!"

It was Duchamp.

6:36 HOURS

HAFNER'S CHATEAU

HAFNER'S STUDY

"I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Germany will WIN THE WAR!"

"Yeah, right General, now DO SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Spooky still pointed his pistol against Hafner.

Hafner was not used being treated like this. Of course he never had come face to face with an armed enemy. Spooky moved backwards and turned his head towards Tiny's ear.

"What do you think?" he whispered to Tiny.

"We can't do anything about it," Tiny looked Spooky in the eyes and added:

"We have no time!"

"Let's get it over with fast. Check the safe."

A safe on the left hand side of the room lay opened. It was full with papers, classified documents, money, maps and Hafner's medication. Tiny stopped pointing his weapon in Kempf's face and moved towards the safe.

"What am I searching for?"

"Anything useful!"

"There isn't anything there!" Kempf tried to stall them. He lifted from his seat and tried to block the American.

"Geh da weg!" Hafner cried out.

"No he won't go away from it! AND YOU SIT DOWN!" Spooky raised his voice.

Tiny searched and picked up something in random. He took a quick peek. It was a file filled with diagrams of prototype airplanes. The file read with big golden letters on top (which Spooky later translated):

NEUBRANDERBURG RESEARCH FACILITY

TOP PRIORITY

PROTOTYPE AIRCRAFT DESIGNS:

ARADO Ar 234B Blitz (reconnaissance bomber)

HEINKEL He 162 Volksjager (jet fighter)

MESSERSCHMITT Me 163 Komet (jet fighter-interceptor)

MESSERSCHMITT Me 262 Schwalbe (jet fighter)

Kempf ignored Spooky's threat.

"Gib es mir!"

Kempf ordered Tiny to give him the file. Tiny looked Kempf in the eyes. He of course didn't understand a word but he understood Kempf's anxiety attack. Kempf's expression turned into a face of defeat.

"He said SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

Heinz, a dedicated soldier and an SS commando of the Third Reich was absolutely sure now. He had heard Englishmen talking inside the office of his powerful General. Heinz, a man hand picked by Hafner himself belonged to the chateau's security detail. He was a faithful man to his country and to his

high ranking officers. His courage, honor and commitment to the fatherland had made him a valuable asset of the SS Commandos. He didn't like what he had learned about the Jews and the extermination procedures. He didn't like it at all. He knew that his General had taken no part in that genocide plot. Like Heinz, Hafner was a soldier first and last.

Now it was time to prove his loyalty to his superiors. He was guarding the corridor leading to the dining room. The corridor Gupta had taken a few minutes prior to Spooky's entry in the study. He didn't like to eavesdrop but in the situation in hand it proved wise. Unfortunately for him he was alone. He cocked his sub machine gun, an MP40, turned slowly the knob of the door and entered cautiously the room. He found out that he was right. He turned his sub machine gun and aimed Tiny. It was his last move.

Both Tiny and Spooky were taken aback. The thought of other guards positioned in another corridor never occurred to them. Tiny saw the flash of the German weapon and tried to avoid being shot. He was startled again when he saw the German soldier lifting his weapon up and firing at the ceiling.

"Die you English pig!"

Heinz said and was about to unload his whole clip on the English spy. He felt an agonizing pain, like someone had just drained all his life supply from him. His left hand moved unconsciously to cover his throat. He wanted to cough but couldn't. His lifeless body went down. But he still fired his weapon, missing his target and hitting some books in the library on the left and making some holes in the ceiling.

6:38 HOURS

HAFNER'S CHATEAU

DINING ROOM

Gupta let the tray with the General's breakfast fall down and quickly ran towards the study. He immediately took out his service pistol. Half dozen of soldiers followed him. One of them yelled:

"ALARM!"

6:38 HOURS

HAFNER'S CHATEAU

HAFNER'S STUDY

Hafner was surprised but glad to see his loyal soldier coming into the room. As far as he was concerned, Heinz deserved the Iron Cross. He saw the American ducking for cover and the Englishman amazed of the whole situation. It was the chance he was looking for. Although Kempf still had his service belt on, meaning that he could at any time remove his firearm from his holster –something the two British spies had forgotten about too – Hafner had left his in his bedroom a while ago, as he had gone to freshen up. Good thing he had predicted something like this and in his desk drawer he had placed another one. As the German soldier tried to fire at the American Hafner seized the moment to open the drawer and take his Luger. He pointed the gun at the surprised arrogant spy and…never fired. Instead he collapsed on top of his desk, spaying the entire room with his own blood.

Spooky saw Hafner's body turning around with a gun in his right hand. He hadn't made that observation before. He was still focused on the unexpected German SS commando.

Where did that gun come from? Mere du Dieu, I am DOOMED!

It was all Spooky thought. His eyes opened wide and his whole life flashed through them. One picture was stuck in his brain. The image of his loved parents.

The lethal shot never came. He observed as in slow motion Hafner's body twitching back and forth, then collapsing on top of his study. He could clearly see a pool of blood forming on top of the desk. A lot of papers on the study were painted a deep color of red. So was Kempf's face.

Kempf saw Heinz, a medium standard SS commando bulging inside the room and pointing the gun at the American.

HELP! He said but the words never came out of his mouth. The fear of dying had diminished the level of his voice. It was now or never. They were as good as dead. Kempf remembered the dead radio operator. How fortunate that man was now. His curses were going to be fulfilled.

Every man dies. A simple and pure process for all God's creations. Death was something he was not accustomed to personally. His family was still alive, so was his wife and young daughter.

Not every man really lives. He needed more time, to clear things up, to realize all promises. He wasn't ready to go. He hadn't lived his life to the fullest. The idea of meeting so soon his maker was not a comforting one. But his decision was not to die like a dog. He went for his service pistol the two foreigners had completely ignored. Suddenly he saw a lot of flashes in front of his eyes. It was the gun of the German soldier firing. He felt something cold on his face. He blinked and saw only one color, red. Kempf believed that the idiotic German soldier had shot him.

He abandoned his effort to fire his gun as the P.38 was pointed at him.

He cursed aloud in German:

"Verdammter Scheisskerl!"

He saw one more flash and he was dead.

He was never going to find out that it was Hafner's blood all over his face.

Tiny saw the German soldier's body falling down, then Hafner's as in an orchestrated simultaneous move. Kempf had frozen during the
whole incident. After the unavoidable execution of Kempf Tiny placed
what appeared to be a very important folder inside his uniform and
locked the door that the enemy soldier had come in.
The whole place was an entire mess. Blood was all over the place and
he was looking at three dead men. He had a tremendous earache.
His ears had nearly popped. He was placed to close to the German
soldier and the loud noise caused by the sub machine gun had made
him temporarily deaf and disorientated. He stared briefly at the room
and recognized two tiny holes on the window behind Hafner's chair.
"What now?" he said breathing hard.
"Let's move! The clock is ticking!" Spooky said and led the way.
Tiny followed him.
"What do you mean?"
"There is going to be an air raid in a few minutes!"
Another clock, a real clock had started its countdown a few seconds
before that statement.

6:37 HOURS

HAFNER'S CHATEAU
INNER NORTH WALL

Duke was the only one that had seen Hafner's bodyguard leave the room. But he was too far away to tell anyone. He never understood the reason of Gupta's absence. It was like Gupta knew that in the only crucial moment of his entire career he was a liability. Duke waited patiently for the right time. According to Spooky he was the back up plan. The French captain wanted personally to dispose the German General. He had his reason and Duke did not doubt them.

"Where are you guys?"

He put his eye to the rubber eyepiece of the scope. He saw the two men talking inside the room full of nice furniture, probably stolen from an unlucky aristocrat. That was the moment where he observed that both men's attention was directed to the door. A man barged in and then, after a few seconds a second one. Duke identified both intruders.

"Finally, I thought they had forgotten our objective," he said aloud. There was no one to listen to him. In this kind of field work you can go insane in a matter of seconds. He splayed his legs two inches more in order to feel more comfortable. His grip tightened around the precision rifle. Without hesitation he wiped his holding hand by the side of his trousers. He grabbed again the expensive weapon more confidently now.

"Stay on target, stay on target!"

Hafner's head appeared again inside his crosshair reticle.

"Ok, you son of a bitch, I've got you. Just say the word, man!"

Spooky had practiced some hand signals with Duke before the start of the mission. If Spooky touched his hair with his right hand that meant that he had green light to proceed. The same gesture with the left meant abort. Duke knew that all this was useless. In order to have these things work they needed direct communication, something like radios to talk to each other directly. Those signals were never made. He pressed his head harder in the eyepiece. All targets were visible except the damn sheep dog. He felt the sweat pouring down his face and neck.

"It takes too damned long, GIVE THE SIGNAL, MAN!"

He scanned the rooms for other targets. He had only two bullets left in his rifle, a fact that meant that both of them should count.

"NO MISTAKES! YOU HAVE DONE THIS BEFORE!"

He started letting out small breaths. It was a simple exercise to help him focus and relax. He loosened his grip around the gun a bit. The finger of his gun hand was inside the guard, lying still by the curved trigger. In the Sniper's scope he saw first the incoming trouble. He was after all the back up plan.

"SHIT!"

He took another aim and squeezed the trigger. A single burst came out of the rifle. Duke worked the bolt, swiveling his rifle for another target. He already knew that the first bullet would dispatch his first target. The bullet traveled the distance of two hundred plus forty yards in a glimpse of a second. Duke had aimed for the throat of the target. The bullet flew and pierced the young soldier's neck twice. His body was already falling as Duke fired the second shot. He had sufficient time to take aim on his second target, General Von Hafner himself. The purity of the profile was extraordinary. Duke thought he knew his target just by looking the pictures of this old man.

He squeezed the trigger a second time. The gun boomed through the open area of the chateau. That bullet seemed faster than the first one. It ran like the wind, made a tiny hole in the window frame, behind Hafner's chair and hit the target just below the cortex.

The bullet drove through the thickest part of Hafner's skull. It passed a few more centimeters and then the bullet fragmented into over a hundred tiny pieces ripping his brain tissue to mush, which then exploded out the front of his skull in an expanding red pink cloud that splashed over Thomas Kempf's face. What once was the face of the Fuhrer's right hand now appeared to be just a piece of dead meat. Through his scope Duke saw Hafner's body falling down. He quickly packed his gun and abandoned his position.

"Mission accomplished. Let's get out of here!"

He ran towards the front of the villa. In the distance he could hear the sirens of the chateau sounding the alarm.

6:36 HOURS

HAFNER'S CHATEAU

HAFNER'S STUDY

Spooky replayed the whole scene in his mind over and over again. It was horrible. Firstly hearing his own words as he shouted to the General's assistant.

"AND YOU SIT DOWN!"

His heart was racing at that particular moment about three hundred miles per hour. Then the unexpected guest showed up. He remembered the bullets flying over him, hitting the books on the library. Then the guard turned and fired towards the ceiling. Spooky saw clearly the trajectory of the bullet from the sniper's rifle drive through the German soldier's neck, coming from the left side, making a hole, passing through the neck and exiting from the other side. He even recalled the two tiny bursts on the neck as the bullet penetrated and exited. That was a lethal wound for sure. Tiny's jumping to avoid being hit was something very funny indeed, his clumsy way as he tried to hide under a piece of furniture of some short. But that lasted only a second. Now the image of the General came next, carrying a handgun. It was more vivid, even surrealistic an image to picture him holding a gun with his skinny hand.

I AM DOOMED. Yes, that was what he had said to himself. That was facing reality of his obvious and ridiculous death. Always search for hidden guns. That was what he was going to do next time. Was he kidding? There wasn't going to be a next time. He closed for a second his eyes and reopened them. He had the illusion at first that the General's gun had actually fired. Then he saw it with his own eyes. The general's head exploding and repainting the furniture with his blood and brains. The explosion was tremendous. He never had actually seen a sight more terrifying like that. A man's head, his whole composure just changing to the worse. His eye sockets drooling out their entire content, a human being's vital fluids spilling all over the place. It completely wiped out the happy grin from the Chief of Counterintelligence and head of the special SS commandos units General Dietrich Von Hafner. It was a death verdict decided a few days ago by his superiors and executed by his back up plan. The sniper had deprived him of his just right to carry out the death order. But it was a close call decision. It was good to know that Duke was on their side. They needed those eagle eyes surveying them from above, like a guardian angel. Spooky knew where the bullets had come from. Hafner's blood didn't even miss his second in command, that Major Kempf who … yes, he remembered now. He was going for his gun but the blood confused him dearly. Spooky still needed satisfaction for all those deaths that Hafner had ordered against his countrymen. He had missed the great shark but he was going to extinguish all his minions from the face of the earth. They knew in what they were involved into. They were the only responsible for carrying out a maniac's dream of making an evil empire. Hitler was the reason for all the suffering in Europe and they were accomplices to the greatest crimes against humanity. Kempf had a young daughter according to his personnel file. That was the only reason for Spooky's hesitation in the first place. He aimed his weapon at Kempf and saw the major's uncertainty of the whole affair. Kempf put his hand down and accepted defeat.

Should I let you live, major? Spooky thought. Then a sudden notion came into his mind.

"Verdammter Scheisskerl!"

The words completely clouded his judgement. The words, although simple and understood due to the circumstances, echoed through Spooky's mind.

Damned fucker!

Well, for 'Scheisskerl' there is no exact match, directly translated it's 'Shit-Guy'. But the words' meaning change the whole perception of the situation.

HOW DARE YOU, YOU ARROGANT BASTARD CALL ME LIKE THAT?

YOU DESERVE TO DIE! YOU EVIL MAN!

Spooky was enraged. His wrath came upon Kempf like an angel of God delivers death. Duchamp pressed hard on the trigger and the P.38 fired a single bullet. It was at close blank range. The bullet got Kempf between the eyes, directly above the left eye. He fell towards the back and his body landed in the chair. Smoke poured out of the silencer. The weapon was hot enough. Spooky unscrewed the silencer from his pistol, burning slightly his sweaty palm in the process. They had lost after all the advantages of stealth and surprise. Next he checked to see if Tiny was all right. That folder he was holding and putting away now happened to be too damned special for the general, Spooky realized.

"What now?" It was Tiny's question.

There was only one way out of this mess and it wasn't staying in there.

6:39 HOURS

HAFNER'S CHATEAU

HAFNER'S STUDY

It was for a merely three minutes. Just go to the dining room, order a simple breakfast and come back. He always was quick about it. Gupta had an undying devotion to his boss he was ordered to protect. Fuhrer himself had given that order. Gupta had been selected from two hundred special skilled SS troopers of the Wermacht. That meant a lot. He had been raised as a fanatic, a total believer of the Third Reich and its doctrines. He had even memorized parts of the Fuhrer's book, a thing that made his selection easier. He was good at anything. And good meant deadly. Close combat was his favorite. But he admired mostly his own strength. The ability to kill a person with his bare hands was the best pleasure he ever considered. A necessary job to put his abilities to the test. He wasn't comfortable of being used in order to kill a fellow soldier but he knew that the General had his reasons. The radio operator was an incompetent soldier in a period of war. Taking him out would simply allow other soldiers to perform better their duties. He was puzzled with the young soldier's attitude. He had not put up a fight, he hadn't resisted at all. A thing explained by two reasons, he was either a coward even in the face of death, which meant that his elimination was a necessary task, or in the other hand that he had accepted his fate unconditionally. Gupta approached the operator from the back, snatched his neck with a headlock and broke it into two pieces as his General and second in command watched in amazement. Major Kempf had disobeyed orders by not allowing the sergeant to kill the unfortunate man but Hafner had the final word on this. And Gupta, his trusted right hand, had performed an easy task. He still remembered the compliments of his Superior Officer as they headed for the upper rooms.

"Excellent, my young man!"

Now he was waiting, annoyed that he had abandoned his General. But Hafner wanted him personally to carry out the simple assignment of bringing breakfast. The General was away too long and he did not trust any of the servants of the villa. His wish was Gupta's command. One of the servants came from the kitchen and handed a tray filled with the usual stuff to Gupta.

"It's about time!"

The first shot didn't seem to come from the General's study. It was heard more like a thunder coming from the outside. The study had been specially sound proved by technicians from Berlin. It was located too far off from the dining room anyway. But the consecutive shots produced by Heinz's MP40 made everybody jump.

"The General!"

The tray slipped from Gupta's hands. He totally ignored his clumsiness.

Gupta produced his service pistol and leaped towards the door. All of the soldiers guarding the dining room followed him at once. A few of them cocked their weapons. Others loaded them first.

"ALARM!" One of them yelled.

The soldier guarding the door leading to the third garrison immediately ran to the control panel and pushed the button. The sirens all at once came to life inside the chateau. The alarming sound was also heard in the German SS camp, but not in the docks. There something different was going to wake them up.

"What's happening?" asked one soldier as he came through the hall towards the dining room, followed by several others.

"Security breech! Fire on sight!" said a sergeant and headed to the main hall.

Gupta stopped at the point where Heinz was supposed to be. There was nobody there. He tried to open the door.

"Locked! Soldiers, open fire!"

Half a dozen heavily armed troopers lined up, pointed their weapons towards the door and fired. The hearing was deafening. The door collapsed after a few seconds, drilled with hundreds of bullets. Gupta first entered Hafner's study and was shocked by the terrible sight. His beloved general was lying on the desk, missing his head. On the chair next to the office he saw Kempf's motionless body. He screamed as he had never screamed before:

"NOOOOOOOO!"

He tried to touch the General. He lifted his body and held him in his hands. He burst into tears, like a small boy, unable to understand why this had happened. His beloved thing, the man he considered as father, was dead.

Several shots were heard outside the villa.

"FOLLOW ME! I WANT THEM DEAD!"

Gupta wiped the tears from his face, picked a MG 30 from a soldier standing by and headed down the stairs. He was completely mad and he wanted revenge.

CHAPTER 5

CHRISTMAS CAME

EARLY THIS YEAR

6:40 HOURS

HAFNER'S CHATEAU

VILLA'S FRONT GATE

Duke ran towards the main part of the villa, avoiding the patrols, which were heading the wrong way, trying to position themselves where he was three minutes ago. More bodies were now discovered and more soldiers were yelling alarm inside the castle, trying to overcome the sirens of the chateau.

There, on the front steps of Hafner's villa, he met the others. Tiny was carrying on his back the previously captured spy while the Marine and the Sapper were watching their backs. Frenchy moved fast towards the General's private car, holding the keys of the automobile in his left hand. Duke took out his trusted Colt 45 and covered them from the right. His eagle eyes carefully observed a German soldier opening a window on the right hand side of the villa, approximately twenty meters above the ground, and sticking his gun out. Duke jerked forward and threw Tiny off balance. Both the Green Beret and the British spy fell on the ground just in time. A hail of bullets hit a few centimeters in front of them. Tiny saw Duke and didn't understand the apparent reason of the sniper jumping in front of him. A few seconds later he realized that he was shot at.

"What are you doing man?"

"Watch OUT! Incoming!"

The German soldier cursed aloud and repositioned his submachine gun to get the others. A split second too late, as Tiny took out the rifle he was carrying since the beginning of this mission, a Karabiner 98k, the German army's main service rifle of World War II, and took aim. He fired several shots, all of whom went right on target. The German soldier, wounded in the chest and stomach, unable to control himself fell outside the window and crashed on the pavement, twelve yards from their position. Although the wounds of Tiny's rifle were not lethal, his crashing on the ground was. He died from internal bleeding, never knowing who shot him.

"Thanks, man!"

"You three, move out!"

It was Frenchy giving the orders from inside the car of General Hafner. He had already gotten into it and was trying to start the machine of the old automobile.

Tiny quickly picked up the ex prisoner and ran to the car. Duke was right behind him.

More soldiers poured out of the chateau and headed towards their direction. One of them, Duke saw, was carrying a large machine gun with a bipod. Some of them fired. The sapper and the marine returned fire but their weapons were out of range. At that precise moment the machine gun fired. Duke was sure now that it was Hafner's bodyguard carrying the deadly machine. He was bad news.

"Take cover!"

All of them tried to hide inside the car. The first bullets shattered the windscreen, causing a lot of tiny bits of glass to fall on top of the commandos. The second burst completely destroyed the rear of the car, making a hundred holes in the trunk. The poor driver of the General, locked inside the boot of the car, died instantly from the German bullets. He had no chance.

Time was precious. Duke revealed his crossbow from his backpack, inserted a special arrow, aimed and pushed gently the trigger. The arrow flew like a falcon seizing the opportunity to hunt down and catch its prey. The tip of the arrow pierced through Gupta's chest, stopping a few inches above his heart. The trivial quantity of explosives inside the tip of the arrow was enough. The top part of Gupta's body blew up, engulfing him like a fireball. The explosion was so great that a man standing next to Hafner's bodyguard was on fire. Others tried to help him in vain. The explosion was long enough to distract the group of soldiers coming at them.

Frenchy turned on the ignition and pretty soon the car was jumping forward, followed by hundred of bullets. In the front seats of the car were the Spy, the Marine and the Sapper while on the back were the Green Beret, the Sniper and the free now spy. All of them were trying to avoid the incoming shots and wishing they were somewhere else. A tremendous sound shook them all.

"KAPABOOM!"

Half of the chateau's ceiling collapsed as a gigantic explosion threw rocks and woods in all directions. A large cloud of smoke surrounded the destroyed part of the villa as the flames of the explosion tried to destroy the other half. Confusion was obvious in every soldier now. Without a leader to order them around panic filled their hearts as others tried to return to the villa to look for survivors while others ran to the air raid bunkers. Still a few of them continued to fire against the car. Some bright ones decided to follow them.

6:46 HOURS

HAFNER'S CHATEAU

NEAR SECURED PRIVATE AIRFIELD

Brooklyn decided to quickly recalibrate the cannon of the tank. He was going to have his revenge. The new target was fast acquired as Sam turned a few knobs and changed the distance of the shooting. He checked again with his binoculars to make sure and then squeezed the trigger of the 50mm cannon. The tank moved backwards as the projectile came out of the huge gun and fell towards its target. The whole process lasted a few seconds. Smoke came out of the German gun.

"Eat that, you shit head!"

The projectile landed on the center of the roof of the target. The car turned on the right and blew up. Both front doors were detached from the German Volkswagen and flew away. All six persons inside were burned alive. The burning car spun out of the road and crashed on a tree. Brooklyn was fairly pleased.

"Yeah, got you, you arrogant bastard!"

He ordered the German driver and the tank moved backwards, making a small opening on the road. After a few meters the tank came to a halt and another shot was fired, this one randomly heading towards the German SS camp. Another great explosion was heard in the distance. Brooklyn took out his portable radio and switched it on.

"Testing, testing, one two three."

He turned a knob around a few times to switch on the right frequency, then he spoke to his portable mike.

"This is White Knight, come in!"

For a brief moment he heard only static, then a reply came through. It was a distinct British accent.

"Black Bishop to White Knight, over!"

"White Knight to black Bishop, authorization to engage, over!"

"Roger White Knight. This is Black Bishop, moving into position!"

"White Knight to black Bishop, repeat…authorization to engage, over and out!"

"Black Bishop, hearing you loud and clear. ETA six minutes, over and out!"

Two pairs of Vickers Wellington Mk IC entered the Holland air space despite the air restrictions by the Luftwaffe and moved into position, three miles away of Hafner's chateau. These airplanes were being used for special operations only since the disbandment of No 310 (Polish) Squadron, where they served from 1940 to 1943. They were capable bombers, operated mostly during the night and they were about to deliver their lethal cargo on the Nazi stronghold.

Their established time of arrival was six minutes. Plenty of time to move around, thought Sam, as the first car parked in front of the Panzer III.

All commandos came out, noticeably shaken and stirred by the experience of Frenchy's driving. Sam came out of the tank, having again disabled the German driver with a knock on the head. He carefully noted the new presence among them. The British spy had come to his senses now, more worried about the cold than his life. The clothes were not warm enough. Sam Brooklyn smiled as he saw Duchamp upset.

"What the hell were you thinking? That last shot could have hit us!"

"Well, thank you too!" Said Sam ironically and searched for something in his backpack.

"It doesn't matter right now!" said Tiny.

"We need to move on!" Added Hancock.

They all agreed. Still there was danger in the air. Hancock had used all of his gadgets and they had worked pretty well. One chateau burning, one SS camp completely destroyed and three submarines were lying on the bottom of the sea.

The bombers should provide air cover to let them make their escape.

"I presume that the other tank went by the docks." It was Sam's correct assessment of the situation. The third tank was too busy searching for the enemy near the south part of the forest.

"How many bombs did you use?"

"Three, no more, no less." Hancock gave a laconic answer.

They all gathered around, then proceeded to the hangar.

6:40 HOURS

HAFNER'S CHATEAU

VILLA'S FRONT GATE

Gupta was really crazy. Someone could see that he had something in his eyes distant and cold. He was obsessed now with revenge. He was the first to hear a series of rifle shots outside the villa. He did not hesitate. He ran out of the main hall, still holding the powerful machine gun in his hands. And there he saw THEM, the enemy of the state, the murderers of his beloved General. They had to pay. Seeing that brave soldier falling out of the window made him crazier still. He armed the MG 30 and fired against them. Several soldiers did the same.

"You killed him. Now you DIE!"

His first hit smashed the windshield of the General's car. The weapon very quickly started to warm up. The trigger became hot to the touch. But Gupta ignored the pain. He targeted the back of the car and he let out another burst of bullets. The destruction was obvious. A few dozen bullets penetrated the trunk and completely made it useless. Gupta was not pleased. Although his shooting was right on target he hadn't killed any of them. He decided to move forward, covered by his fellow soldiers and attack at full strength. He scanned the area around the car and he was able to see one of them, maybe a sniper, he did not know, pointing something that looked like a crossbow towards his direction. He repositioned himself and was about to fire. A thing flew in front of his eyes. Then he felt the pain. The MG30 continued to fire for a few seconds, then stopped as it was consumed by the flames and blew up. The arrow had penetrated his broken heart, never letting him have his revenge.

"TO HELL WITH YOU!" It was his last request. He felt the tiny explosion wrapping itself around his heart, then his other vital organs and then moving to his upper body. His veins bursting out with fire, his eyes popping out of their eye sockets. His body was tore apart in hundreds of small burning bits flying through the morning air. Gupta's body was burned from within, making his identification impossible later for the Gestapo experts. At that precise moment Gupta ceased to exist.

"Let's go, let's go!" Yelled Frenchy to the others. Fins moved in the co driver's seat of the car with Hancock as the other three swiftly sat in the back seats. They never stopped firing at the German soldiers. Then they heard it. The explosion ripped the old castle apart. The time bomb was right on schedule.

"Move out, move out!"

Frenchy pushed the accelerator and the car started spinning towards the airstrip of the chateau. Frenchy was good at driving. He made a short number of mindful corrections, swinging the wheel left and right in order to avoid the roadblocks.

"The bombs, man, the bombs!" cried Fins to the sapper.

"Oh YES, the bombs!"

A small device turned up in Hancock's hands. It was an electronic device, able of transmitting a strong electronic radio signal to the explosives' detonator. Hancock connected two wires and pulled out several times a few safety cords. An electric discharge indicated that it had worked. After a few moments of waiting four large explosions were heard.

" More worries for them now!"

"We are still followed!" said Duke as he fired his gun.

"BY WHAT?" it was Fins who said that, not having a clear view of the back road.

"It's Kempf's escort car. I count six men inside!"

Tiny smashed his window with his rifle, positioned himself out of the car and fired but unfortunately missed. The Germans returned fire with their sub machine guns.

"What now? They are gaining on us!"

The British spy woke up from all the fuss and saw first the face of Duke. He was scared by his look, a deadly and friendly look at the same time. Duke saw that their friend had woken up.

"I sincerely hope I didn't scare the living daylights out of you!"

"You are driving too fast!" a remark from the British spy to his French counterpart. He had finally come to his senses.

"I am getting dizzy!"

"Good for you to join us, Quartermaster!" the commandos were pleased that their mission was so far successful.

"Where am I?"

"On the road to heaven!" Frenchy replied deliberately with a British accent.

"Remind me next time to install some rockets and machine guns to the sides of the car!"

The commandos laughed but their laugh was cut short as they saw a Panzer III blocking the road and firing at them.

"Incoming! Hit the deck!"

The commandos tried to hold themselves to the sides of the car as the incoming shell landed a few yards off their position, striking the German car behind them and blowing it up to kingdom come. Frenchy was furious. He grabbed the gear shift and changed it and hit the breaks just in front of the Panzer III, as it was going slowly back.

6:44 HOURS

CLASSIFIED MILITARY INSTALLATION

GERMAN SECURITY CAMP

Sergeant Altmark was drinking his usual amount of coffee as all hell broke loose. The news of the chateau's disaster came like a bolt from the blue. Men ran wild to and forth as explosions were heard from inside the chateau. A man punched the alarm button too late.

"What's going on?" Altmark stopped a panicked radio operator who was heading to the shelters.

"Air raid, sir! Probably! Don't know, alright?"

Altmark got angry by the ignorance of the soldier.

"Communication with the chateau?"

"Everything is down Herr Sergeant, no communication! Now please!" the radio operator ignored Altmark's commands of coming back.

"What the hell is going on?" he stepped out of the headquarters and saw in the distance huge amounts of smoke coming out. More explosions were heard. Shouting and confusion ensued.

He ran to the barracks, picked up some willing men and headed towards the path leading from the docks to the chateau.

"How could I be so blind?" he remembered the discussion he had a few minutes ago with the SS commander. He sounded so calm, as a man with a gun pressed onto his head. He cursed and hastened his pace.

He was a few meters away as three consecutive explosions destroyed the submarines, taking with them a large portion of the docks and a large number of men. The bombs were carefully positioned. The first near the engine room of the sub on the right while the other two triggered the torpedoes aboard the subs. With the first alarm only the crew of the submarine in the middle was fast and unlucky enough to enter their sub and prepare it for departure. All men were blown up as the bomb created a hole atop of the torpedoes room, thus causing a chain reaction of the torpedoes' explosive warheads. The middle submarine broke into two parts and sunk as the first explosion triggered the second and the third. The sea was filled suddenly with fire, metallic debris and dead corpses. A tremendous black cloud of smoke made things more complex for the Germans. Still they didn't know if it was an air raid or not.

Sergeant Altmark was shocked. In a brief moment he had lost three submarines and an entire crew. It was an air raid after all, he thought. He was out in the open, unable to take cover. He ordered his men to pull back and help the others while he ran towards the chateau. He needed answers.

The morning run was good for his to relax and think clearly what had happened. As he reached the chateau he saw the third Panzer III heading towards the destroyed docks. He rapidly climbed aboard and talked to the tank's commander.

"Go to the chateau! NOW!"

"Yes, Herr Sergeant. Snell!" the commander started spinning around his hand making a signal to his driver and to an incoming patrol. The huge metallic monster changed course and headed towards the front gate. The moment the tank passed the gate death came to find all of them. A bomb dropped from the clear morning sky whirred and landed directly above the front gate, causing it to collapse on top of the tank. The tank's crew was buried alive and suffocated.

Both the tank's commander and Sergeant Altmark were crashed by the gigantic ancient rocks; they were standing on top of the German tank. Altmark's last thoughts were of his failure to protect his base against the enemy.

6:50 HOURS

HAFNER'S CHATEAU

NEAR SECURED PRIVATE AIRFIELD

Tiny picked up the handcuffed pilot and ordered him to prepare the aircraft. All the commandos, plus a British spy were now inside the Junker-52. The pilot made a final checking on the engines. The aircraft backed away from the hangar, then taxied out to the runway. Three minutes later, the airplane rotated off the ground and the Commandos team was on its way home. Tiny remembered about launching a green flare – a sign of mission accomplished – and so he did that by opening a small window of the plane and throwing out a flare as the plane started to climb up.

Hafner's chateau was spotted just as the pilot of the Junker launched the plane into the air. The four Vickers Wellington Mk IC made a check pass above the German installations, then did a turn of 180 degrees and made a second pass above the chateau, which was easy to spot as huge clouds of smoke ascended towards the atmosphere. The lethal cargo, comprising of several British made 500 Libra's MC bombs Mk III and two British heavy bombs known as 'Blockbusters', designed for mass demolition, were delivered on time. More explosions destroyed completely the whole area around and inside the chateau. Nothing remained of Hafner's villa. Not even Hafner's body. The four British Bombers quickly exited Holland's air space and escorted the Junker-52 back to Britain.

6:59 HOURS

ABOARD JUNKER 52 HEADING TO BRITAIN

"Give him something to drink, he's freezing!" ordered Tiny.

"Here you go, pal. Drink this. It will make you feel better," Sam passed his canteen to the spy.

The tired man took the canteen willingly and had a mouthful. He rapidly felt his throat on fire.

"What the hell is this? This is no water, pal!" questioned the free now spy. Frenchy took the canteen from the Quartermaster's hand and smelled the content. He managed to smile and took a sip.

"Where did you find vodka in this desert?"

"Remember Dragisa Skopje? He knows a friend who knows a friend who…"

Frenchy laughed and handed the canteen to the others.

"Hey, everybody, have a drink. Our comrade here is making us an offer we cannot refuse."

Pretty soon the canteen was empty and Sam, although disappointed of not having a sip himself, felt more relaxed now. Frenchy looked around and saw that his team didn't seem tense at all.

"Truce?" Frenchy asked the Driver.

"Truce!" Both men shook hands.

"Who are you anyway?" Duke was just curious.

"I was trained by the best, British Intelligence, but in retrospect, I would rather have been a poet or a farmer", replied the British spy.

"Quite agree. What were you doing there?"

"A simple reconnaissance mission gone to hell. Those damned double agents!"

"Tell me about it!" replied Frenchy with a nod.

"Who are you guys? Never seen you before."

"We are trained to be ghosts, sir. As far as we are concerned, this operation never took place. You do not need to know us because nothing of this really happened. Your senses deceive you. We do not exist."

"I see, well Mr. Ghost, my name is Bouthroyd, Geoffrey Bouthroyd."

"Sir Francis T. Woolridge."

Duke introduced the others to the famous now British spy.

"Jack O'Hara, Samuel Brooklyn, James Blackwood, Thomas Hancock and Rene Duchamp."

"Nice to meet you!"

"And Quartermaster Bouthroyd, Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas!" They all replied with one voice.

For the British spy of the MI6 it was indeed his best Christmas.

EPILOGUE

PRESENT DAY

MI6 HEADQUARTERS

EXPERIMENTAL FACILITIES LABORATORY

Q was sitting in a special designed chair for his back, admiring the blue prints of his latest achievement. It was his retirement plan after all, a fishing boat. He had named it Q-boat. He had lived through the Second World War and he owned it to the Commandos. Their valuable help was the main reason of the Allies' victory against the Axis.

Major Bouthroyd never again went into the field of operations. His experience with the 'Schloss Hafner' was something he wanted to forget than to remember. He still kept in touch with some of the Commandos, the ones who were not dead yet. He should have retired a long time ago, but he loved his work, creating gadgets for Her Majesty's secret agents. It was something he was particularly proud of.

He let out a small breath, as he remembered the whole incident. His seizure and capture by the Nazis, his torment and his rescue. The brave Commandos had pulled it through. He had developed now a small phobia about situations with no apparent exit. An escape plan, always have an escape plan. That was the lesson the Commandos taught him. It was too valuable and too personal a lesson to ignore. Q and his men were working on the strange half-built suspended over a water tank. He decided to explain to them the nature of the machine.

"The hydro boat can operate in three inches of water..."

Unexpectedly 007 passed through the lab and headed towards a security area, without stopping to say hello.

Q was annoyed. That man needs a lot of growing up to do!

It was the beginning of an explosive day. A day that reminded him a lot of the commandos mission beyond the call of duty.

THE END

COMMANDOS WILL RETURN

Author's note:

This short story is dedicated to actor Desmond Llewelyn who passed away recently due to a car accident (1914-1999)

He will be missed.