III.
Daylight never entered the tunnels. The night just ended when someone turned on the lights. Duncan opened his eyes in a small room that they had prepared for him by the radio station. He did not wake up with the lights but with the buzzing of another immortal invading his space. It was still early but he could not go back to sleep. Resigned to his fate, Duncan splashed his face with water that LeBeau had left for him and fixed his clothes.
This part of the tunnels was still in silence, so he could explore the place without distractions. The signal grew stronger as he entered an unfinished branch. He heard steps behind him but did not move.
"Duncan, you woke up early or the bed was not as comfortable as we thought."
"Kinch. Good morning. The bed was great but I don't sleep much anyway." Duncan kept his eyes on the ceiling. "The tunnel ends here?"
The sergeant put his hands on his pockets. "More or less. We've been trying not to disturb the structures above us. Of course, if we need another route, we'll take this one."
"What is up there, above us?"
"That's the sentry tower, and the main gate is a few feet ahead."
Duncan nodded. "There was a shift change… how many sentries are there on each shift?"
"I haven't gone out this morning but they usually keep two guards up there." Kinch frowned, staring at the Highlander. "Did you hear them from here? Really?"
"Ah… no," he chuckled and turned around. "I'm just speculating. It's my first time in a prison camp like this."
"I believe that." Kinch turned back to the ladder. "Oh, Colonel Hogan sent me to tell you that after roll call you may come up and sit with us on our daily briefing."
"I'll be there," he said, taking one last look at the ceiling.
Duncan waited by the ladder until the trapdoor opened. The roll call did not last more than ten minutes and the group was already involved in making plans for the evening.
"Duncan, good morning. Please, grab some cocoa and have breakfast with us." Hogan smiled as he thumbed through the notebook he had in front of him. "There's a bridge in Ulmetburg that needs to disappear tonight. Carter, how many dynamite sticks do we have left?"
"350."
"Blimey, Carter, are we sleeping on 350 sticks of dynamite?" Newkirk turned to see Carter, sitting on the edge of the lower bunk.
"Eh? No!" Carter jumped to see Duncan roll his eyes while pouring cocoa in his mug. "Of course not," he giggled. "What was the question? Sticks… yes. I have two in my lab."
"That's certainly not enough to blow up a bridge." Kinch walked with Duncan to the table.
"A very tiny bridge peut-être?" LeBeau made room for the Highlander.
"Unfortunately, it's not a small bridge," Hogan sighed. "We'll have to pass on this one till we get more supplies."
"I'm sorry, it's the end of the month… I'm running out of explosive material," said Carter.
"It's not your fault, Andrew. It's hard to administer our supplies with everybody asking for something." Newkirk lit a cigarette and went to sit on his bunk, above Carter's. "It's a ruddy war, I tell you."
"I know how you feel, Carter." LeBeau paused in his work of mending socks. "Our pantry has been empty since last week. I don't think we can survive on Stalag food. I'm still waiting for the requisition forms, colonel?"
Hogan was unable to refute his men's complaints. "Guys, I'm sorry, you're right, London has been especially greedy for our services but these are the hard times. You don't need me to remind you that most of us have friends and kin on the battlefields. They don't have cocoa when they run out of coffee. Our sacrifices will help them to win the war."
Silence surrounded them for a moment, as each one's thoughts seemed to travel into that part of the war they had left behind after they were captured. Duncan nodded quietly, remembering what they were fighting for, what he was still fighting for after centuries of wars.
"Colonel, if I may, I think I have something downstairs to contribute to the cause."
Hogan closed his notebook and looked at him with curiosity. "Meeting resumes downstairs. Duncan, lead the way."
Duncan waited for everyone to sit down. Then, he put on the conference table a block of something that looked like green clay. Carter leaned over to see it closer and his face glowed with excitement.
"Wow, is this the Nobel 808?" He brought it close to his nose and chuckled. "It really smells like almonds."
"Yeah… We've been using it for a while in SOE missions."
"Using it? How? To make pottery?" Newkirk tilted his head, staring at the block while Carter pressed it and twisted it.
"Impressive, London has been promising me this for months," Hogan explained with a wide smile. "It's a plastic explosive."
Newkirk sprung up and away from the table, followed by LeBeau. "You can put that bloody thing back on the table, Carter."
"It's okay, Newkirk," Duncan took a piece of it in his hand. "Putty explosives are more stable than dynamite. We use them for demolitions and sabotage in the railways. I just used it in a couple of works with the Underground in Paris."
"You were in Paris..." LeBeau sighed, coming back to the table.
"Well, we're back in business, I guess." Hogan tapped the Highlander on the arm. "Thank you, Duncan." Then, he turned to his men. "Tonight LeBeau and Kinch will deliver the medical supplies to the underground and then, you two meet Carter and me at the bridge at 2200 hours. Duncan, we'll have a 3-hour window before we drop you at the rendezvous point with the submarine. Would you like to join us and help Carter with the explosives?"
He took a deep breath before answering. "As good as that sounds, I'd rather stay and catch some sleep. I've been on the road for too long and there's another job waiting for me in Berlin, tomorrow."
He turned to find Carter's eyes fixed on him with a stare that he interpreted as pure mistrust. "I'll show you how to use the 808. It's not that hard."
"Oh, yeah, of course. I can handle it, I can handle anything, really."
"That's good for me too, actually. I can use some company." Newkirk shrugged.
"Very well, then… Now, we have to come out and play. Schultz gets nervous when we're not in sight." Hogan headed for the ladder. "Newkirk, I'd like to see you in my office."
"I'm right after you, Guv'nor." Newkirk raised his eyebrows, putting his hands in his pockets. "I haven't done anything wrong yet… have I?"
"We'll give you moral support, mon ami."
LeBeau and Kinch walked upstairs with him.
Duncan put his toolbox on the table and he sat in front of Carter. "350 sticks of dynamite?"
"I'm sorry. I had that number in my head and it just came out," he whispered. "What was that about catching some Zs? Do immortals get tired?"
"Of course we get tired, Carter, I'm still a human being… but you're right, I'm not going to sleep," Duncan looked over his shoulder before going on. "I have a problem, that can become your problem and everyone else's problem. The immortal who shot at us last night is here in camp."
"Here? One of the boys? Can't be."
"None of your friends, here… That man is out there… by the sentry tower."
"One of the guards, of course!" Carter narrowed his eyes. "Do you want me to go and see who's there?"
"No. You'd better stay away from the guards. You shot him last night and he might have seen you and Colonel Hogan. He knows I'm here, somewhere. All I need is the names of the guards in the sentry tower and their shift schedules."
"Why? Do you think you may know them?"
"If he's an immortal, there's a strong possibility we have met before."
"And that's good…"
"I don't know… he shot me, remember?" Duncan shrugged. "Can you get the names? Is it possible?"
"Sure, no problem…" Carter's frown wrinkled in deep thought before he raised his eyebrows. "I got it!"
"Okay…" Duncan was not sure if trusting the young sergeant was wise. He knew too much already, but that was nobody's fault. "Now, let's focus on your mission before anything else happens." He took several wires out of the toolbox and put them in front of Carter. "Here's what you need to know about the 808."
"Got it?"
Newkirk exhaled the smoke of his cigarette, taking his time to answer that question. "I don't know, Carter. I trust you completely but still, that's not enough to risk my neck for you. What do you need those names for? Don't tell me you're just curious."
"Why can't I be curious about the guards? I like to call people by their names," he shrugged.
"So, why don't you go and introduce yourself? They may shoot you before you can talk but then again, they could be friendly too."
"Damn it, Newkirk. Why are you being so difficult lately? Are you going to help me or not?"
From their bench, they saw Kommandant Klink leaving his office to get in his car. Schultz saluted until the dark Mercedes crossed the gates. Newkirk inhaled the smoke before letting it out slowly.
"Don't get mad at me, I'm trying to protect us both here. If they catch me in Klink's office without a good reason, I'll be in serious trouble in both armies. The guv'nor is not going to like me doing side jobs without his consent." He finished his cigarette and stood up. "Besides, what you need is not in the Kommandatur. You're coming with me. If I'm risking me head here, I'm not going down alone." He pulled Carter to his feet and walked toward Schultz.
"Schultz! We need help."
"Now what? Are you coming to mock poor Captain Heinrich some more?"
"Oh, no. That was mean from our part, ain't that right, Carter?"
"Oh, yes… Schultz, we're really sorry. You don't find a headless body in the forest every day… Well, I don't know what the customs in Germany are, but in my town, I never saw anything like it… We're scared and we make jokes when we're scared."
"It's not an everyday thing here either. Local authorities are going crazy." Schultz stared at them. "What are you up to? What do you care?"
"As Carter said, we're scared. What if the killer is among us… I mean, not the prisoners, of course. We can't go out at all but what about the guards?" Newkirk raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
"What about them?"
"C'mon, Schultzie. What do you know about the guards? There are a lot of them, it amazes me that you can remember all those faces. Do you even know them all by their names?" Newkirk tilted his head, narrowing his eyes on the two guards at the gates.
"Don't be silly, of course I know them by their names, they're my men. I'm in charge here." Schultz chuckled, rolling his eyes.
"Indeed? Let's see… The guards at the gates?"
"Those are Wagner and Müller…"
"By the kennels?"
"Hoffman, Koch, and Righter."
Carter kept silent while writing the names in a notebook. "What about the sentry tower?"
Schultz came closer and squinted at the guards. "Ah, Shäffer… and the new guy," he frowned.
"What? That's a new guy?" Carter shadowed his eyes from the sun. "What's his name?"
"Da, he came yesterday…" Schultz frowned suspiciously and turned to Carter. "Why are you so interested in my soldiers' names? And what are you writing in that notebook?"
Newkirk turned too, glaring at his friend. "He's scared of the head hunter, you know… The man that chopped off your beloved captain's head?"
"Yeah… I'm keeping a record of your men, just like you keep one of us," Carter nodded, trying to sound convincing.
"You two are crazy. This war is getting too long," Schultz shook his head and turned back to the Kommandatur.
"But Schultz, the new guy. You remember his name?" Carter insisted.
"That's Albrecht… Johann. Stop asking stupid questions."
Carter had barely time to write down the last name before Newkirk snatched the notebook from his hands. "Hey, that's mine."
"I know. Why are you so interested in those names?"
"Nothing. It's just a…
"If you're going to lie you have to be faster on your answers." Newkirk tapped the notebook on the palm of his hand. "C'mon, Carter, is this about the Highlander? What's going on between you two? Why does he need the names of those sentries?"
"I can't tell… it's none of your business." Carter stepped in front of him. "The notebook, please."
"No, until you tell me what's going on."
"Okay. Since we're into exchanging secrets, why don't you go first and tell me what's going on with you? The colonel grounded you for two weeks and you don't care. Are you quitting? Tell me." Carter did not expect him to answer but it was enough to end this nonsensical game.
Newkirk smirked and put the notebook in Carter's hand. "Just be careful, that Scotsman seems to have more aces up his sleeve than he's willing to show."
"That's what everybody says about you when we play poker." He mumbled, with his eyes on the notebook. "Are you gonna be okay? I mean, are you still part of the group?"
"Yeah… The colonel told me about a new mission and whether I want to tag along," he lowered his voice. "I told him that I'll think about it."
"Really?" Carter smiled. "That's good, I mean, whatever it is about it's going to be good."
"It's a one-man job, nothing big… We'll see. Now, be careful, okay? I'm not kidding."
Carter turned to gaze at the sentries in the tower one last time. He gulped when he spotted the new guard's grey eyes fixed on him. He covered his face with his hat and ran after Newkirk, back to the barracks.
TBC
Nobel 808: Developed by the British company Nobel Chemicals Ltd. well before World War II. The original use of Nobel 808 supplied by the SOE was for sabotage of German installations and railways in Occupied Europe. (Plastique explosive - Wikipedia)
