Carter cast a wary glance at Hogan before following Lehmann into the building. He didn't know what awaited them inside, but whatever it was, the gun aimed at his back meant he would have little choice but to go along with it. And while he had no doubt that the colonel would get to them before they even got through a physical examination, the very idea of being used as a guinea pig for any experiment didn't sit well with him.
But it was too late for second guessing himself; that train had left the station hours ago. He had volunteered to come along- heck, he had practically begged Colonel Hogan to include him- so he had to make the best of the situation. Leadership wasn't his strong suit, but he was sure he could keep the three men with him safe long enough for the colonel and the others to get the information they needed.
Of course, if it turned to fisticuffs, he wasn't sure he would be much use. His leg ached with a pain that seemed to shoot up all the way to his teeth. Every step was some new kind of torture and it was getting harder and harder to hide it.
This had definitely been a bad idea.
"What's the matter with you?" Pfeiffer asked peevishly from behind him.
Carter stopped. "Me, Herr Doctor?"
"Why are you limping?" the doctor demanded.
"I hurt my leg. Playing soccer," Carter explained quickly. "We have a game every week, the SS and the troops stationed around Hammelburg. It can become very bloody sometimes. But of course when Major Hochstetter said he needed volunteers to serve the fuehrer for a special mission, I could not let a little thing like this stop me!" Carter puffed out his chest and stood as tall as he could, easily slipping into the role of a proud member of the SS.
Pfeiffer frowned and sized him up. Then he shook his head and moved past him to join Lehmann at the head of the group. He said something to the other doctor that sounded like nonsense, and it took a moment for Carter to realize that he was actually speaking English- perhaps in an attempt to speak freely around his fellow Germans. Carter internally groaned. Now he would have to consciously remind himself that he needed to speak German and not let the doctor's use of English make him forget where he was and who he was supposed to be.
"I will have to speak to Hochstetter when this is all over if this is his idea of suitable candidates," he muttered.
"We don't have time to be picky," Lehmann replied testily. "We should have used the others."
"I will not compromise the integrity of-"
"Yes, I know," Lehmann interrupted as if he had heard it a thousand times before. "Well you have your perfect specimens now- an injury like that is inconsequential."
Carter frowned. It sure didn't feel inconsequential. In fact, he was breaking out in a sweat trying to keep up. He paled considerably when Lehmann opened a door that led to a staircase.
Well, he supposed they needed to stall for time anyway. It would probably take an hour just to get halfway up.
Tentatively, Carter started up the steps, leaning heavily on the railing for support. Ahead of him Lehmann and Pfeiffer were still talking and he struggled to split his attention between eavesdropping on them and keeping himself from throwing up as he lumbered up each step.
"We don't have time to wait for more volunteers anyway," Lehmann continued. "The Field Marshall is ready to stop our project all together. We will be lucky to get out of this with our lives."
"Short-sighted fool. Science is not a magic rabbit that can be pulled out of a hat; it takes time!" Pfeiffer lamented.
"I suppose this calls for drastic measures," Lehmann said.
"Drastic measures?" Pfeiffer repeated.
"We need results, or we face a firing squad. Or the Russian Front. Or both. Worse, all our hard work will be destroyed if we don't come up with some tangible results.
"We'll run series J and K. I had the serums brought up this morning. And we'll double the dose of radiation."
That made Carter stop dead in his tracks. Radiation? What kind of radiation? He doubted the doctors had a simple x-ray in mind. He didn't know a lot about radiation- it was somewhat outside his wheelhouse- but he knew enough to be wary of it.
Lehmann and Pfeiffer paused and looked back at him and Carter quickly reached down to rub his leg and hiss. "Perhaps we can slow down?" he suggested, remembering to speak in German. "My leg is very sore."
He kept his eyes firmly on his leg, willing the doctors to ignore the timing of his sudden stop. He heard Pfeiffer sigh in frustration. "Meet us in the lab. And be as quick as you can."
Carter sighed with relief when the doctors continued on their way. "Help him," one of the guards ordered Klein and Wagner. They each put one of Carter's arms over their shoulders and began slowly up the stairs.
"Hurry up," one of the guards ordered.
"He's heavy?" Wagner said hesitantly, looking to Carter for direction. He didn't seem too eager to face whatever was waiting for them in that lab.
"I'm afraid we're all a little banged up from the soccer match," Carter explained apologetically. "Perhaps you can help me?"
The guards looked between each other, doubtful, especially considering that Klein was fairly muscular, but in short order, two of them shouldered their rifles and pushed Klein and Wagner aside. They roughly grabbed Carter's arms and lifted him between them.
Carter chewed his lip and managed to cast a quick glance to his watch. There was a perfectly good opportunity right now to overpower the guards and make their escape. Indeed, Klein, Wagner and Hoffmann looked ready to pounce. But, it was no good. As much as they had tried to stall, the colonel would still need more time to find the information they were looking for. He couldn't risk anyone sounding the alarm. And yet, he also couldn't risk being exposed to whatever bizarre science project these doctors had cooked for them.
It was up to him to make a decision. His own inadequacy as a leader, as a decision-maker, was front and center in his mind. He wished that the colonel was here. Or Kinch, or Newkirk. Or even LeBeau. Or that he could transfer command to Sergeant Klein. But it was no good. For better or worse, he was in charge and the decision was his alone to make.
The last time he had to make a split second decision like this, however, one man ended up dead, and he was left with an injured leg. He couldn't afford to act brashly now. Once again he found himself regretting ever volunteering for this mission and getting himself into this position. But what was done was done. He had to focus on the present and the decision before him and there was no time to weigh the pros and cons.
Catching Klein's eye, he shook his head ever so slightly. They just had to play along for now and hope that the colonel would be true to his word and get them out of there before things went sideways. Klein and the others relaxed ever so slightly, although they were still on edge as they continued up the steps.
At the top of the stairs, one of the guards dropped Carter's arm and opened the door leading to a hallway. Two more guards appeared and fell in behind them as they started down the hall. One opened a door and ushered them inside a room.
The room was brightly lit and Carter could have sworn he smelled death lurking under the antiseptic that clung to the air. A set of vials sat on a nearby countertop, next to a row of chairs. One side of the room was hidden behind a white cloth partition panel. Against one wall here was a panel of blinking red buttons next to a heavy metal door with a big spoke safe lock on it. A skull and cross bones was stencilled on the door. Carter definitely didn't want to see what was on the other side.
Pfeiffer was in the middle of saying something to Lehmann but when they entered, he stopped and huffed in frustration. "Finally," he said, before turning back to his companion. "I do not think-"
"The elements are pure, Pfeiffer," Lehmann said. "Surely we can experiment more with the method if it means saving our necks!"
"But the validity-"
"Desperate times, my friend," Lehmann said. Then he turned his attention to his four volunteers. "Please, take off your coats and sit," he said, gesturing to the chairs.
Carter furrowed his brow. With five guards in the room, they were now outnumbered. Any chance they had to escape on their own was vanishingly small. He had a feeling that he had made the wrong decision in the stairwell.
They weren't given the chance to hesitate as the guards moved closer and herded them into their seats.
"I'm afraid," Carter said as he very slowly peeled off his coat, "that Major Hochstetter was short on the particulars of this assignment. Perhaps you can walk us through what you are intending to have us do?"
"Roll up your sleeve please," Lehmann said as he filled a syringe, ignoring the question. "Either arm is fine. Your choice." His friendly tone was so out of place in this situation that it was downright creepy.
Pfeiffer was more forthcoming with answers. "You are to be part of a new generation of the fuehrer's army," he explained. "Our experiment is designed to make you faster, stronger, smarter. You will be the elite of the elite and you will use your new skills to secure victory for the fatherland."
"The SS is already the elite of the elite," Carter said proudly. He might not have been a good leader, but he was a good actor and it wasn't hard to play the part of an arrogant SS soldier.
"But this will make you even better," Lehmann said.
"We already are the master race! The fuehrer has said so! Who are you to question him?" Carter exclaimed. He stood up and crossed his arms stubbornly. "This is treason!"
From the corner of his eye he saw Lehmann heave a sigh and look heavenwards. But Pfeiffer was a little more sympathetic. "Of course, of course," he said. "Aryans are far superior to all other men. They're prefect men. But still men. Men trapped within the limitations of humanity. But here," he spread out his arms proudly, "here we will create gods. Gods that will bring order to chaos and ensure the Third Reich will last for a millennium."
"Gods like the dead body we drove in today?" Carter scoffed skeptically.
"An unfortunate casualty on the road to success," Pfeiffer said solemnly.
"And if we refuse to become casualties as well?"
"That is treason," Pfeiffer replied. "It is an honour to die for the fatherland. It is your duty to die for Hitler."
"Yes, yes, honour, duty," Lehmann interrupted dismissively, "but more importantly, you do not have a choice." He motioned to the guards. "Now, please sit and roll up your sleeve. You need a dose of vitamins."
Carter looked from Lehmann to the guards, then to his fellow prisoners who were watching him intently. Carter struggled to find something else to say to stall, but didn't come up with anything before he was roughly shoved into his seat.
"You can roll up your sleeves yourself, or we can help," Lehmann said cheerfully.
Carter tried not to scowl as he rolled up his sleeve. Well, he supposed a few vitamins wouldn't hurt.
Lehmann came up to him and swabbed his arm with some alcohol while beside him, Pfeiffer did the same to Hoffmann. Then, the doctor jabbed him with a needle.
It should not have shocked him the Lehmann lied. Whatever was in that syringe was definitely not vitamins. The liquid felt like fire in his veins. It burned through his body until it grabbed hold of his heart and squeezed it tightly. Carter gasped, desperately trying to suck in a breath, but his lungs wouldn't cooperate.
"Him first," he heard Lehmann say. One of the guards grabbed Hoffmann and pulled him onto his feet.
"Wait," Carter gasped. He tried to get up, only to be held down by a heavy hand.
Helplessly he watched as the steel door was opened. There was another heavy door behind that. Hoffmann was quickly pushed in and both were shut and locked.
Carter's heart bucked in his chest as Lehmann went to a panel on the wall and pressed a few buttons before flipping a heavy switch.
A high pitch whine emanated from behind the doors, but it quickly fell silent only to be replaced by a series of thumps. Suddenly the lights dimmed drastically and the room rumbled and shook. Anticipation hung in the air between the scientists and guards. And then, from behind the two heavy doors, Carter heard screaming. It didn't seem possible for it to be so loud and intense and still be human. But it grew louder and louder as the lights flickered and the room shook.
Panic enveloped him. This was not how this was supposed to have gone. They were supposed to get a physical. Hogan was supposed to save them before anything happened. Carter was supposed to keep Klein, Wagner and Hoffmann safe. He had failed. This was a disaster.
Well, damn the consequences now. He had to do something. He had to save Hoffmann and he had to keep himself and the others from being next.
Without another thought he kicked the guard in front of him in the groin. The guard doubled over in pain and surprise and Carter jumped up and slammed his elbow down into his back. Adrenaline numbed the protest from his leg enough that he didn't automatically keel over though he stumbled a bit after the guard dropped.
Klein and Wagner had also sprung into action, whether as a reaction to Hoffmann's scream or Carter's lead, he didn't know. Klein quickly subdued one guard, but Wagner was struggling with another. The other two guards raced forward, and grabbed Klein. The sergeant fought back with all his might, and managed to free himself. Carter took it as a good sign that neither of the guards reached for their weapons. They were there to intimidate and subdue, not to kill. After all, they needed their guinea pigs to stay alive.
Instead of going after a guard to help Klein, Carter turned his attention to easier targets- the doctors. Maybe if he could get one of them, he could use him as a hostage and get the others out of there. Decision made, he charged at Lehmann and tackled him to the ground. He quickly got to his feet and whirled around to go after Pfeiffer.
The doctor jumped in surprise and scrambled to grab the only weapon available to him- a syringe. With surprising speed, Pfeiffer lunged at him, jamming the needle into Carter's shoulder before he could block. Once again, fire coursed through his veins. Carter gasped and stumbled back, grabbing at his chest as it tightened. Any fight left him when Pfeiffer kicked him in the shin. No amount of adrenaline could stave off the pain anymore. Stars filled his vision and he dropped to the ground in a heap, curling into a ball as pain tore up his insides.
The crack of a gun broke through the fog of pain.
The colonel. Finally.
"Enough of this," he heard Lehmann say. Carter blinked and through bleary eyes saw Klein on the floor, holding his bloody shoulder and cursing through gritted teeth. He was hurt. But how? Where was the colonel? Who had fired the gun? Carter's thoughts scattered and he couldn't quite piece anything together.
The guards, one with a severely bloodied nose, grabbed Klein and Wagner and threw them back into their chairs, training their guns on them. By now, the lights had come back on and Carter heard Pfeiffer order another guard to get Hoffmann. Carter struggled to lift his head and saw Hoffmann being pulled out of the chamber and dragged behind the partition.
"Honestly, such behaviour," Lehmann huffed.
"I never seen such squeamish SS men. You were worse than our volunteers from the Kriegsmarine," Pfeiffer said, sounding more amused than annoyed.
"We never had such trouble before," Lehmann sighed. "I think you're right Pfeiffer- we really do need to have a chat with Hochstetter if these are his volunteers. No matter. When we're done you'll all thank us. Now, be good boys and cooperate."
The guards hauled Carter to his feet. He tried to get his bearings to fight back or run or cry out or something, but couldn't quite seem to get his brain together enough to act.
A moment later, he was thrown against a wall. He slid to the floor as the heavy metal door shut behind him. The room was dim and small, so that he couldn't stretch out on the floor. The walls and inside of the door were rippled, grey, and, when he pressed against it, it felt somewhat foamy. The floor and ceiling seemed to be made of black glass.
Carter struggled to his feet and tried to push against the door, but it was no use. "Let me out! Let me out!" Terror swept through him. He started pounding his fists on the walls. "C'mon, Colonel, c'mon! Newkirk? LeBeau? Olsen?! Someone! Get me out of here!"
Carter stopped cold when that high pitch whine started. Then, with renewed panic, he began throwing his shoulder into the door. He had to get out of this chamber.
The whine stopped, replaced by heavy thumps behind the walls, and the floor started to shake beneath him. Another muffled noise filtered in through the heavy doors. Carter thought it almost sounded like gunfire, but he couldn't be sure. And, besides, he had bigger problems right now.
Abruptly, the room filled with light. Excruciatingly bright and hot, it surrounded him, shot through him, and seemed to tear him apart. It assaulted every cell in his body, simultaneously tearing them apart and smashing them together. Dropping to his knees and folding into himself, Carter pressed his hands to his ears, trying to keep his head from exploding. Something bubbled up within him and threatened to spill out in a primal scream but before it could, suddenly, everything stopped. The light died and he was left in darkness.
A clang and a clunk announced the door opening. A silhouette appeared in the doorway and moved towards him right before he fainted.