Churchill's Ace (Epic War Series Book 1) (36 page)

“You tell him, Lieutenant.”

“Major Kruger, my uncle was an industrialist. Don’t get the wrong idea. He was an honest man. Nuts and bolts, that’s what he made. His company did much work for the government before the Nazis came along. Goering and his buddies steered the work away from my uncle’s company. And worse yet, they had him killed. He was arrested, and we never saw him again. And because he was a threat. How can you be a threat when you make nuts and bolts? This has to change!”

The car swerved to one side of the road. Colonel Steckel said, “Lieutenant Rhines... please.”

“Sir.”

Wolf said quietly, “I thought I was on the only one. How foolish.”

Colonel Steckel adjusted his monocle. “A black cloud has descended on our country. This is why you must steal the jet and fly it to England. Now, you must bide your time. Fly the Me 262 and suggest minor changes. It is vital that you have the drop fuel tanks that they are testing, put on the aircraft for one of your flights. Without the drop tanks and the extra fuel, you can’t reach England. You’ll end up in the Channel or plastered against the cliff of Dover. Do you understand Major?”

“Yes, sir. Without the drop tanks, I may as well be in prison.”

Lieutenant Rhines said plainly, “Will you kill him? The person who arranged for the murder of your parents?”

“If I get the chance.”

Lieutenant Rhines smiled, “Wonderful.”

Colonel Steckel said, “Now Major Kruger, since we are now considered friends, let me you offer some advice. This isn’t the situation to settle a score with Zigfried Bockler. However, if you get the chance, kill the Nazi bastard.”

“Yes, sir.”

At the same moment, Lady Margaret exited Winston’s Rolls Royce. She placed a crutch under one arm and stepped onto the stone walkway of Harding Barrow, a place that she hadn’t seen in over a year. Frankly, she never thought she would ever return. But she was like a ship without a port. Harry Ickes was dead, and now Lady Margaret was back where she started.

Lord Ashton moved down the stairs from the front door. Lady Margaret noticed that Lord Ashton wasn’t sporting that awful cane, which he had clung onto as his drinking wound out of control. Lord Ashton took her hand and kissed it. “Forgive me for all I have done and that which has been neglected.” He then turned to a servant who brought a wheelchair down the stairs.

Lady Margaret blushed. “That isn’t necessary.”

Lord Ashton answered, “Yes, it is.”

Madeline and Randolph were waiting at the top of the stairs. Randolph went down the stairs. He and a servant carried Lady Margaret up the stairs. Madeline said, “A magnificent entrance.”

“Thank you, my dear. I would have used that blasted crutch. But if I was sent sprawling, I couldn’t fathom another stint in the hospital.” She was wheeled into the foyer. Lady Margaret took in the scene. “It seems the old place has been brightened up.”

Lord Ashton closed the door behind his family. “You will find many things are different... and all for the better.

Three days after the botched escape at the pier at Wells-next-the-Sea, Hans found himself back on his cot at Dulwich Village. Hans was still groggy at times and suffered from a case of vertigo, but he was no worse for wear. And he was alive. When the shooting had started, it seemed to have come from many directions. The next thing he remembered was waking up in an English hospital. When he was under, he dreamed that he was back in Germany. Or more specifically, on the farm with Helga. At this point and time, that sounded like more than enough.
How long will this war go on for?

And now, Wolf was gone again. Did he even make it back or was his boat sunk in the middle of the Channel. And what about him? There was a rumor the RAF would soon start transporting prisoners to Canada. If that happened, he wondered if he would ever see Germany and Helga again.

He also couldn’t understand why he passed out. He wasn’t shot. The more that rolled around his mind, the more confused he became. But Wolf seemed to get away. Maybe someone wanted Wolf to get away. What is going on here? Why did Wolf turn up suddenly at the RAF Annex?
Where were you the whole time? Really... where.

He thought back to the day he was shot down. Or the more accurate fact that his tail was shot off.
Who shoots off a tail?
Everyone with any sense attacks from behind and gets the hell out of there. Only a fool or a very skillful pilot would attempt, much less be able to, shoot off the tail of an enemy fighter. You’d have to cut a fine pattern to do that. You’d have to be an excellent marksman.

Wolf was an excellent marksman. Perhaps the best in the Luftwaffe.
No! It’s not possible. What kind of a fantasy was it to think that Wolf Kruger would fly against his country?
There was no way he would do that. But would he fly against the Nazis, if given the chance? Yes, yes he would. They killed his parents. Hans lay back on his cot. They killed his parents.

The Luftwaffe Flight Testing Center at Rechlin was heavily guarded. There was a barbed wire perimeter fence, and guard posts spaced at intervals. Colonel Steckel's car stopped and the occupants were asked to provide identification papers. Colonel Steckel showed his disdain for the situation, as Wolf handed his papers out the window. “Private, I’ll have you know this is Major Kruger, the most decorated ace in the Luftwaffe.”

A Doberman Pinscher guard dog that was held on a chain by another guard barked once. The guard yanked on the chain, and the dog was muffled. The papers were handed back to Wolf. “Major, welcome to Rechlin.”

“Thank you.”

The sedan pulled away. Colonel Steckel said, “As you can see, nothing easily gets in and out.” The sedan stopped in front of the operational headquarters of the test center. “General Ahrent runs the complex. Unfortunately, he is an ardent Nazi. You must be careful what you say. Let’s go meet him. And Wolf as soon as you can... get the hell out of here with the jet. The longer that takes, the more that something can go wrong.”

“I understand.”

* * *

Colonel Steckel was right about General Ahrent. The General’s office had a picture on his desk of him shaking hands with Adolf Hitler. However, he seemed to be rather pleased to meet Wolf. “Ah, Major Kruger... a wonderful result escaping from the clutches of the RAF. I understand your wingman didn’t make it. An unfortunate conclusion to his career. But no one can predict what will happen in war. This is why we must press on, for the glory and honor of the Third Reich. Air Marshal Goering phoned me personally and told me you had requested to fly the new jet. What a marvelous idea. I understand you have received one of our country’s highest honors.”

“Yes, sir.”

“May I see it?” Wolf hesitated and pulled it out of his uniform pocket. He gave it to the General Ahrent. “Very impressive. Major you may want to have this framed or, at least, deposit it in a place of safekeeping, rather than the pocket of your uniform.”

“General much has happened the last two days. I haven’t had time to even shower.”

“But of course. I’ll have you shown to your private quarters.”

“Sir I would like to see it... the jet.”

“Right now? I thought you were tired.”

“Not that tired, sir.”

They left the office and entered the hangar where two Me 262 jets stood side by side. Wolf looked at the jets and was mesmerized. They were sleek and beautiful. For a second he forgot that he was there to steal of one of them.

His daydreaming was broken when he heard the familiar voice of Zigfried. Colonel Steckel could see the tension in the air. He was afraid that Wolf would kill the little Nazi bastard here and now. Colonel Steckel said, “Captain Bockler you have my deepest condolences for the death of your father.”

Zigfried gave Colonel Steckel a condescending look. “Why thank you, Colonel.”

Colonel Steckel looked at Wolf. “Major Kruger, Doctor Bockler was killed in a spectacular and devious attack on the Fuhrer’s gallery on the Wilhelmstrasse. The dastardly deed was done on the grand opening night. A single Mosquito slipped into Berlin and did it.”

Zigfried said flatly, “Colonel, forgive me, but how do you know that it was a Mosquito?

Colonel Steckel smiled. “Because that is the only plane the RAF has that can fly that far and fast.”

General Ahrent broke in, “The Mosquito won’t stand up to our new jets. Nothing will.”

Zigfried smirked when he said to Wolf. “It must have been a miracle, you surviving after getting shot down.”

“The circumstances were strange, to say the least.”

“You’ll have to tell me about it sometime; I’m sure it’s fascinating.”

Wolf took a step toward Zigfried and General Ahern stepped between them. “I was warned about this. Let me make myself very clear to the both of you. Both of you are at Rechlin because you are the best pilots in the Luftwaffe. It is your duty to test the Me 262, so we can get it into full production. You will do it professionally and quickly. After that, I don’t care if you beat each other with a wrench. But gentlemen, I’d suggest you save the fighting for the RAF. Do both of you understand? I will not say this again.”

Zigfried smirked, “General, I will do my duty for the Third Reich.”

“Major,” said General Ahrent.

“General, you will not have any problems with me.”

“Fine... dismissed.

* * *

The next morning, the two Me 262 jets were prepped and waiting for Zigfried and Wolf. Rudi Waltzer was still getting over the shock of finding out the previous night that Wolf Kruger was not only alive but had arrived in Rechlin to test one of the Me 262 jets. Now, both Zigfried and Wolf who were bitter enemies stood an arm’s length apart. Rudi knew the score with the two pilots. Only one of them was going to survive the war. Rudi shook his head and thought, how foolish General Ahrent was. Doesn’t he realize what is going to happen? Rudi put his best face on. “Today you will be taking them up with the drop tanks, to see how the jet handles with them on.”

“Are they loaded?” asked Wolf.

“No,” replied Rudi.

“What about the cannons in the nose?”

“Negative.”

Wolf and Zigfried taxied out onto the runway in Me 262’s and took off. Wolf had been briefed by Rudi on the basics of the jet, and he knew the Me 262 required more runway to lift off. Once airborne, Wolf checked out the controls. It was pretty much business as usual as far as Wolf was concerned...until he opened the throttle. The acceleration from the twin jet engines was tremendous. Soon, he had the Me 262 flying at its top speed of 540 mph. The jet didn’t exactly handle like a Spitfire at that speed. But there was nothing in the air that could catch it or run away from it.

As Wolf was putting the Me 262 thru some basic maneuvers, he saw Zigfried approach him from behind. Empty guns or not Wolf banked left and headed for the deck. Zigfried followed, and Wolf pulled up and slowed down. Zigfried overshot him and Wolf got on his tail. Zigfried tried to shake him, but it was hopeless.

Wolf matched every move Zigfried made. Wolf wished that the nose cannons of his Me 262 were loaded. If they were, he would have shot Zigfried out of the sky. Of course, that would have been the end of him too. Without the drop tanks, he didn’t have enough fuel to reach the Channel much less England. He would have to bide his time for a little longer.

After they both had landed and the Me 262s were parked on the tarmac, Wolf walked past Zigfried. His hate for the Nazi pilot was growing by the minute. Zigfried looked over at him and said, “You’re a traitor just like your parents...dead parents.

Wolf wheeled around and punched Zigfried in the face. He regretted it as soon as he did it. It was obvious that Zigfried had baited him. But it felt good to see the Zigfried sprawled across the tarmac. Rudi got between them as General Ahrent entered the hangar. General Ahrent said. “Captain Bockler what happened?” Zigfried saluted General Ahrent and left the hangar. “Lieutenant Waltzer, what is going on?”

“Nothing General, I believe Captain Bockler slipped on the runway. He’s probably tired. Tomorrow the jets will be fully armed, and the drop tanks will be topped off. Major Kruger and Captain Bockler are to push the Me 262 to its limits.”

General Ahrent said, “Major Kruger is that what happened?”

“Good evening sir.” Wolf saluted and left the hangar.

General Ahrent wasn’t amused. He said to Rudi, “They’re both prima donnas. I’d sack both of them if they weren’t such good pilots.”

“Yes, sir.”

At the same time, Major Hollenby made his way down the three flights of stairs and entered Churchill’s War Rooms. He took off an overcoat that was wet from an early September storm. He hung it up in the reception area and was soon whisked into Winston’s mini-office. His stomach was tied up in knots. That wasn’t how it was supposed to be for someone in his position.

The intelligence game was a battle of wits against your enemy. It was innocuous and cerebral as if you were playing your counterpart in a game of bridge or poker. Granted that game was contested at the highest level and not played in some smoke-filled back room. What the patrons and so-called experts who pushed the chess pieces, pawns or not on the game board forgot at the most inappropriate time, was that the intelligence game could be deadly.

When that happened, everyone would take a step back and search for an answer as to what went wrong. Satisfied the handlers would send their agents and pawns back out into the cold, and the entire process would start again.

Winston could tell from the demeanor on Major Hollenby’s face that something was wrong...and that it concerned Wolf. “Major how are things?”

“I’ve had a bit of troubling news concerning the Wolf Kruger affair.”