Chapter Twenty-six

Thank you for reading and for your reviews.

Warning: Graphic violence.

Hermann dove to his left, some sixth sense alerting him to danger. He hit the floor hard, glimpsing something shiny and green go sailing by and in the next instant, heard a loud crash on the other side of the table. Glass and green liquid sprayed everywhere, some of the droplets splashing onto the back of his wrist.The skin there instantly started burning.

Hermann rolled to his feet and faced the room at his back. One of the scientists was on his knees, satisfaction on his face.

The door to the laboratory burst open. Hermann's gaze locked onto the guard from the hallway. Hermann went for his gun, but the guard fired a split second sooner, simultaneously slapping at the alarm button to the left of the door.

The bullet tore into Hermann's chest. He fell backward against the beam, returning fire even as his legs gave out. The guard yelled, stumbled and went down. Hermann jerked his arm to the right, sighted and squeezed the trigger twice. The resourceful scientist fell face first to the floor, dead. The other passed from unconsciousness to death.

But the damage had been done.

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Outside the bunker's entrance, Olsen cursed as he heard the first shriek of the alarmbehind the steel door. Whirling, he grabbed the door's handle and yanked. Benson clamped an arm across his chest, preventing him from entering.

"We can't!" Benson shouted over the strident ululations escaping the open door. "Not yet!"

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Newkirk pulled up, a torrent of ice sweeping down his spine. Under the loud, repetitive noise of the alarm's wailing, his keen hearing had picked up the distant sound of gunfire. He slapped a hand to his holster, fingers curling around the grip of his gun.

Doors flew open along the corridor and frightened faces peeked out.

"Back inside!" Newkirk yelled at them, throwing his arm wide. "Inside!"

The faces pulled back and the doors jerked shut. Newkirk sprinted back the way he had come – away from the exit.

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Klaus narrowed his eyes in frustration. The noise in the cavernous room was deafening, the alarm's shrieking echoing off the walls and high ceiling, making it impossible to hear and track Rosstal.

At least we will share the same difficulty, Klaus thought grimly, focusing his concentration upon stalking Rosstal through the maze of racks. Just before the alarm had gone off, he had caught the slightest hint of movement to his left and three racks over. He headed in that direction, watching continuously for any sign of Rosstal. At the back of his mind, he was aware that the Gestapo agent had showed none of his false persona's clumsiness.

The satchel in his hand weighed heavy, but not nearly as heavy as the responsibility of completing his part of the mission. Time was running out. He needed to end this. Now.

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Leon clapped his hands over his ears against the ear-splitting noise, his wide eyes searching Kinch's face for reassurance. Kinch cradled the boy closer and patted the thin back, his gaze locking with Hogan's. The fight they had feared was upon them.

Kinch turned and passed Leon to Carter, then took Freda from Hogan.

Hogan pulled Niklas' hand from his sleeve, and guided him to stand behind Kinch. "Grab onto his uniform with both hands! Stay directly behind him and don't let go!"

Niklas' face showed his terror, but his head jerked in acknowledgment.

In the brief moments of silence between the alarm's wails, they heard heavy boots rushing in their direction. Hogan stepped up to take point while LeBeau dropped back, taking the rear.

The first Germans rushed headlong out of a branching corridor ahead of them. Hogan put up a hand and they skidded to a stop in knot of bodies, looking to him expectantly. He gestured behind him, snapped out information.

"That way! Five of them. They tried to release the prisoners." He waved them on, growling, "Go!"

The Germans flowed past them and disappeared at a run. Kinch and Carter started forward again, with LeBeau on point. Hogan unclipped a grenade from his belt, trotted a short distance after the Germans, then pulled the pin and tossed it. And then he turned and raced after his men.

Seconds later, an explosion destroyed the corridor, cutting the Germans off and keeping them from pursuing the real enemy.

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Newkirk skidded around another turn toward the lab Hermann had been assigned. A pair of guards dogged his trail, thinking he was one of them, running to clear the bunker of intruders. He let them, waiting for the right time.

He slid around the last corner and spotted a guard sprawled outside the lab, obviously dead. Newkirk hurdled the body. Tucking and twisting, he did a shoulder roll and flung himself against one wall, coming up in a crouch. The trailing guards ran directly into his bullets and fell without getting off a single shot.

Newkirk jumped to his feet. Back flat against the wall, gun in a two-handed grip before him, he leaned toward the door.

"Hermann!" Newkirk bellowed, hoping his friend would hear him over the alarm. "It's me, mate! I'm coming in!"

Newkirk edged along the wall and cautiously peeked around the door jamb. Hermann was slumped awkwardly against the steel beam, both hands working on the bomb. Two men in white coats lay dead nearby. Broken glass glittered on the floor close to Hermann's position, along with a pool of green liquid.

Newkirk glanced back at the corridor and found it still empty except for the slain guards. That would soon change. More were bound to come in response to the gunfire.

He ran to Hermann, skirting the two bodies and avoiding the pool of noxious-looking liquid. Hermann, still completely focused upon the bomb, never once glanced his way.

"Come on!" Newkirk yelled, keeping one eye on the doorway.

Hermann checked his watch, worked out the time of detonation, then leaned over the bomb, set it and flipped the timer switch. The clock's hands started their slow sweep. Hermann looked over his shoulder at Newkirk, yelling to be heard.

"Go! I'll slow you down!"

Newkirk grabbed him by the shoulder and tugged. Hermann's body twisted toward him and for the first time, Newkirk saw the bullet hole and sheen of blood on the black uniform. He hesitated only a moment. Holstering his gun, he took fistfuls of Hermann's coat and jerked upward, urging him to stand.

"Together or not at all!"

Hermann's eyes blazed. Newkirk glared down at him.

"NOW, you bloody daft Kraut!"

Hermann's hands shot out and locked upon Newkirk's forearms. With a concerted effort, Hermann lurched to his feet and they headed for the door.

TBC. Thank you for reading!