Title: The Schofield Legacy
Word Count: 9337
21st April 1945
I don't think anybody could deny that the Allies were ambitious. Seven years ago, people said toppling Berlin was impossible, but with Soviet forces preparing to invade Berlin itself, nobody thought anything was impossible; at least not my leaders – especially when they begun planning this mission.
They had picked me out for several reasons, but mainly because my military record during the war had become – extensive.
For this mission, I'd begun training and studying like never before – pushing myself to limits beyond anything I'd seen another soldier achieve. I'd thought the quicker, stronger, and smarter I became, the less danger I be in. It didn't quite work out how I planned. The further I pushed myself, the more dangerous missions I'd be selected for.
And being so close to the end of this Great War, they threw their biggest mission to date at me.
Nobody had any doubt that Berlin would fall, but the casualties on both side would be horrendous. The Germans had fortified the huge city, creating hidden bunkers and tunnels everywhere. The Soviets could stroll into the centre of Berlin, but still be fighting vicious and fortified attackers five months down the line.
Nazi Germany needed a hit, a strike to their moral so devastating that they simply give up. So they'd know that they'd lost the war.
Hitler needed to be taken out. However, simply killing the man was risky, possible but risky. The news of his assassination could whip the Germans into a fury and make the fighting even fiercer. The strike needed to look different; it had to look like a demoralising suicide. So the Allies picked the one man they trusted to complete the mission.
Me! The great Michael Schofield – a title publicly given to my by Franklin Roosevelt during a not so pleasant encounter. Put nicely, I had enough dirt on the President to have him sent to a Military Prison for the rest of his life. Luckily for him, I decided to forget the damaging documents I'd found on a previous mission to Berlin.
I have no doubts President Roosevelt personally requested for me to be sent. If I died, then I couldn't tell anybody about the documents I'd found, and if on the slim chance I succeeded, then I knew full well I'd have to lead a very quiet existence.
So, I left my beautiful wife and child and departed for Germany.
I knew that getting close enough to Hitler wouldn't be easy. My original plan had been to forge and transport some documents with an urgent message from Erwin Rommel about some battle; but with his unexpected death a few months back I had to update my plan. So I set my sights on Field Marshal Hermann Wilhelm Göring. The forgers who wrote the message did it perfectly; it basically said Hermann was preparing to take control of the Third Reich, to take Hitler from power.
It'd also give cause for the people around Hitler to believe the suicide. With Hitler thinking that his list of allies were growing smaller by the minute, and the Soviets preparing to invade.
In an effort to be as convincing as possible, I spent an intensive month living with a family of friendly Germans. I could already speak their language fluently but needed to work on my accents and mannerisms. I needed to pass by any soldier or guard without raising an eyebrow.
After little more than two weeks, I had the German family questioning if I was truly American, leaving me with little doubt I could pass through the German ranks.
Making my way into Germany had been easier than I anticipated. After being issued with a liberated German Messerschmitt Bf 109 fighter aircraft, I hand-picked the two best pilots I could find and told them to shoot me down towards the borders of Germany. I must admit, it was some spectacular flying on my part; mostly because the two Spitfire pilots had become overzealous and almost blown off my tail.
I still remember the ground rushing up at me, and trying unsuccessful to control the rudder. Then moments before impact I recall thinking about my son: in my wife's last letter, she wrote that he'd just begun crawling and how she lost him for an hour, but found him curled up under a lounge.
I don't remember hitting the ground, but it must have been hard because the first thing I remembered was several German uniforms surrounding me, my eyes stung from blood and sweat, and I naturally reacted by going for my pistol. Two sets of hands restrained me, while a German soldier pleaded, "Geehrter Herr, Herr, stoppen bitte, wir sah Sie zusammenzustoßen. Sind Sie okay?" Sir, sir, please stop, we saw you crash. Are you okay?
I'm not sure which one hit first, the realisation that they were helping me, or my brain feeling two times bigger than my skull. I let my muscles relax and groaned, "Wo bin ich?" Where am I?
"Herr, Wer in die nahe of München." Sir, we are near Munchin.
I spotted the soldiers insignia and said, "Oberschutze, Ich benötige Durchgang nach Berlin." Private First Class, I need passage to Berlin.
"Herr, haben wir die Aufträge, zum seines Bereichs zu halten um jeden Preis geschützt. Die Sowjets..." Sir, we have orders to keep his area guarded at all costs. The Soviets...
I'm not sure if it was the blood dribbling down my face but the soldier actually jumped when I snapped at him. "Ich bin traged einen persönlichen Brief zu Herr Hitler vom Marshalis Hermann Wilhelm Göring, bestelle ich Sie, mich nach Berlin zu transportieren." I am carrying a personal letter from Field Marshal Hermann Wilhelm Göring to Herr Hitler, I order you to transport me to Berlin.
After I said that, he really jumped.
I knew Hitler was less than five rooms from me. I doubt any soldier had gotten that close to him throughout the entire war. I could normally keep calm throughout anything, but now, if my heart beat any louder it'd almost drown out the allied bombings going on above this very bunker.
After bluffing my way into Hitler's private bunker, my letter had been confiscated by the Gestapo, which didn't surprise me. Luckily, the Fuehrerbunker's non-essential staff were currently being evacuated and a general chaos consumed everything. I managed to accidentally slip away from my escorts – well, thanks to some chloroform, they were now fast asleep behind some wood in the lumber room.
Flexing my arms in an effort to stop them shaking, I eyed off the stairs going towards the next level. I'd have to pass by the guard station, it'd be unavoidable, but luckily I was a quick thinker and could talk my way through if need be.
Forcing all emotion from my face, I stepped onto the first rung. Almost instantly, I could feel several sets of eyes burning into me, watching my every move. I didn't look up, just kept walking as if they were below me; I acted like almost every officer I'd ever known – on both sides. Getting to the end of the stairs in no time I was greeted by two soldiers. One soldier held his rifle proudly against his chest and said, "Was ist Ihr Geschäft?" What's your business?
"Ich habe eines persönliche Anzeige von auffangen..." I have a personal message from Field….
Breaking my sentence; screams and shouts echoed from down the hallway – from Hitler's room. Naturally, every head in the hallway spun towards it. My normal reaction would have been to disarm the two soldiers in the confusion, then attack the guards in close quarter combat. However, I found myself looking towards the shouts too.
When suddenly I spotted the most hated man on the planet; he looked older and more ragged then I'd seen him in any photo. He'd only recently turned 56, but the lines over his face made him look closer to 70. Yet he held this awe, a natural confidence that attracted the eye. However it took less then two seconds to remember he'd been the direct cause of 11 million deaths.
I could feel the cyanide pills burning through my pocket.
Then somebody followed him; a man who wore the strangest clothing I'd ever seen; another two rifles wielding guards continued behind him. The prisoner had blood dribbling from a cut in his forehead, and I'd caused enough of them to know it'd come from the butt of a rifle. Yet it wasn't the wound, or the clothing that worried me, it was him shouting – in perfect English.
His accent sounded almost British, but I couldn't place it exactly with his sharp breathing, "There … is no device."
In the middle of the hallway, Hitler spun on his heels and stared down at the strangely clothed man. Hitler gave a guard behind a slight nod, who swung back with his rifle and slammed the soldier in the back of the skull, making the man crash against the ground.
I'd have thought the knock would have sent him unconscious, but he lifted his head slightly. Hitler knelt down and stared the man in the eyes, then spoke in surprisingly good accented English, "I am no fool. You were inside my room, and I could not see you, technology like that won't be possible for several hundred years. Where is your device?"
The man let his head sink, Hitler ordered the two soldiers, "Tragen Sie ihn. Mein Bunker hat wenige Räume, die genug, eine Vorrichtung der genügenden Größe zu verstecken groß sind. Wir finden ihn." Carry him. My bunker has few rooms large enough to hide a device of sufficient size. We shall find it.
The two soldiers behind took an armpit each and began dragging the strange clothed man. Looking like somebody who'd just been offered a lifeline, Hitler stopped opposite the guard's station and randomly pointed at a few soldiers, then laying his eyes on me, continued to point at me. "Alle Sie. Folgen Sie mir." All you. Follow me.
Hitler must have been used to the shock on people faces, because he certainly didn't react to mine. Seeing him storm directly towards me, I moved to the side, and watched him pass less than a meter from me. Smelling the pungent odour coming from him, I could feel my body wanting to throw itself at him – given his poor physical strength and age, a well placed blow could kill him.
Restraining myself, I watched the two soldiers drag the prisoner past me. I can't remember ever seeing the material he wore before; it clung unnaturally tight to the skin, and comprised of one single piece of material. I couldn't see any seams or stitching. And most startlingly of all, the material consisted of a shiny silver colour.
Then behind me, I heard an angry German voice bark, "Erhalten Sie beweglich!" Get moving.
I spun a look at six soldiers standing behind me, eager to please their Fuehrer. Taking two steps at a time, I followed the strange clothed man towards the end of the stairs case – but couldn't get off the stairs; Hitler stood at the top turning his head to each door within his view. It didn't take a genius to figure out he was deep in thought.
The already fast pace of my heart tripled in a millisecond; Hitler shot a look at the closest room to him – the lumber room. Without looking for acknowledgement from anybody, he stormed into the room, with his two soldiers dragging the prisoner behind.
The lumber room consisted of two separate rooms, connected by a door. I'd hidden the two guards behind a wood pile in the second room. If people had come in to collect some wood, then they'd most probably have collected it from the first and closest room. I hadn't expected Hitler to personally storm into the room.
I knew running would make me look guilty, so I simply followed them into the room with another six guards at my heels. The room looked exactly as I'd left it. Several neatly stacked piles of wood surrounded us. Hitler began looking around the room; peering suspiciously at pieces of wood. I still couldn't for the life of me figure out what was going on.
Resisting the urge to lash out at the murderer meters from me, I stepped past him; into the second room. If I was quick, I could push a stack of wood over, covering the two guards.
The second lumber room looked exactly as I'd left it. Peering around a corner of wood, I wasn't surprised to see the two guards still propped against the far wall. Walking towards the edge of the wood, I positioned myself low, placing my hands against the wood.
Only it didn't feel like wood.
I couldn't feel the roughness, couldn't feel the tiny splinters that I could clearly see. It felt smooth, like steel. I tried shoving against it, only the object didn't move. I ran my fingers along the smooth surface; again I couldn't feel the individual pieces of wood. It almost looked like my fingers passed through the solid material.
Nothing like this could exist, it was simply impossible. Yet I was staring at it with my very own eyes.
Running my fingers along the length of – whatever the hell it is – I discovered it went for almost 3 meters in length, the full length of the wood pile. Suddenly I heard a voice – Hitler's voice, he sounded very excited, "Sie haben es gefunden, ausgezeichnet. Es muß eine Tür irgendeiner Art geben..." You've found it, excellent. There must be a door of some sort...
I spun to see Hitler storming towards me. The hunger in his eyes couldn't be mistaken as he set his eyes on the wood pile. Less then a meter from me again, I saw his gangly fingers reach out to touch the smooth surface, and it took all my strength not to beat the grin off his face. He roared towards the guards staring blankly at the wood pile, "Es gibt eine Öffnung oder einen Handgriff. Finden Sie es." There will be an opening, or a handle. Find it.
I looked around the corner, seeing the two guards propped against the wood – or whatever it was, and then spun to see the rest of the guards charging towards us, eager to please their fuehrer. I had only seconds to react. The unconscious guards would be discovered within seconds.
Hitler stood so close I could smell his breath. I could kill him now and then run; if I was very lucky, I could even make it out of the bunker.
But my orders strictly said no to killing him outright, it had to look like a suicide. Breathing hard, I watched the inevitable. A guard curiously walked towards me, then stepped past and froze at the corner of the wood pile, his eyes widened, and I saw his lungs breathing in preparing to yell. Only I reacted quicker….
Two steps and I stood in front of him. Ripping back my fist I brutally slammed it forward, connecting hard to his throat. I felt his trachea collapse under the impact and saw him stumbling backwards – out of view of the others. His hands flew to his neck, almost begging air to flow. I stalked forward, watching the colour drain from his face.
Seeing him trip backwards, I spun….
To see another guard staring at his dieing comrade, then glaring at me, I knew instantly the game was up. He opened his mouth and began to yell; only his breath didn't get the chance to form a word. Whipping out my only throwing knife, I tossed it underarm, sending the short blade into his neck.
I never had any doubts that Hitler's personal guards were good, but they reacted faster then I imagined. They didn't yell with shouts of confusion, didn't rush around like headless chickens. Two guards simply yelled, "Meuchelmörder!" Assassin!
And alarms erupted throughout the bunker. Two minutes later and the this place would be swarming with soldiers. I had to move fast. Rushing towards the almost dead soldier, I collected his sidearm.
Staying out of view from the others, I pushed myself against the wood/smooth metal. I tried listening for footsteps, but with the alarm wailing I couldn't hear a thing.
Well, I did hear Hitler shouting at one of his guards in the confusion, "Befreien Sie mich jetzt, ich fand die Tür, ich lassen nicht dieses Entweichen!" Release me now, I found a door. I'm not letting this escape!
Looking up I spotted a single light bulb fixed into the roof. Aiming the pistol upwards, I pulled the trigger, shattering the bulb and plunging us into darkness. Holding the sidearm tight, I waited for the first soldier to appear in front of me. I'd take him out, then using him as a shield take on the rest of the bunker. Then try and figure out how to deal with the 300 plus soldiers outside.
Despite the alarm wailing, I could still hear Hitler's excited voice ordering, "Sie und Sie, schleppen Sie ihn nach innen. Bewegen Sie!" You and you, drag him inside. Move!
Suddenly I spotted what I'd been waiting for; a soldier threw himself into my view. He moved quick, bringing his rifle to bear on me with surprising speed. Unluckily for him, I moved faster – a bullet exploding from my sidearm, hitting him square in the heart. Even before the smoke had a chance to escape my pistol, I lunged forwards. Two bounds and I reached him. I heard another rifle explode in the close quarters, but nothing hit me as I wrapped my arm around the soldier's neck.
Whipping up my pistol under my dead shield's arm, I aimed it at the closest guard, releasing a single accurate bullet. Scanned the darkness for any hint of Hitler, I felt the impact of a bullet slamming into the dead body, I spun myself and my shield in the direction the bullet came from – shooting another bullet into the darkness–
–Hearing a scream erupt from his direction I dropped my shield. The last thing they'd expect would be for me to take the fight to them, so that's exactly what I needed to do.
The darkness gave me all the cover I needed for this room. But I didn't have to wait long for a flash of light as another weapon exploded inside the wood room. The muzzle flash only lasted a millisecond, but I saw what I needed to. Hitler.
Only it's what I saw in the millisecond flash that caught my eye.
He stood beside some sort of door which I knew wasn't there before before. The door looked brilliantly reflective, almost like a mirror. Spinning my pistol towards the last place I saw Hitler, I sent a round in his direction–
The flash from my weapon erupted inside the small room, but the door was gone. As was Hitler.
I could feel my blood boiling, my frustration rising. Pushing myself through the darkness, I spotted another two muzzle flashes lancing out, but I knew they weren't aimed close enough at me to worry. Stopping exactly where I knew I saw the door, I started feeling through the wood onto the smooth metal; suddenly feeling something that felt like a hole….
When suddenly the entire wood pile emitted the brightest light I've ever seen. And I realized exactly what I was looking at.
My wife tried to get me to read her science fiction books a few times, but with mountains of manuals, field books, and general studies – the novels had been put on hold. But I recognised this from one of the covers. It held the exact dimensions of the wood pile, but had lost its camouflage. The exterior looked like a mirror, and started emitting a brilliant glow.
I didn't think it was possible, but I knew looking at a spaceship, or some sort of craft.
Then suddenly reality hit – or more precisely a bullet.
The searing, burning pain felt very familiar – but with my adrenaline running so fast, it'd be a few hours before the real pain hit. Spinning from the impact, I loosed another bullet into the skull of my attacker, leaving me in the room alone with the spaceship, watching the glow continued to grow in strength….
Then with an almost blinding flash the spaceship disappeared, leaving the pile of wood in its spot. Rushing over to the wood, I grabbed a single piece, and felt the rough texture of the wood. The spaceship was gone.
With Adolph Hitler aboard.
I felt my stomach turning at the same time. I'd played this wrong, I could have claimed that the prisoner dropped the guards, and could have gotten away with it. Now I had an entire barracks of German troops rushing to meet me.
My chances were getting slimmer with every second that passed.
There wasn't a chance of fighting my way past the entire barracks, especially in such a confined area. I had to think.
It didn't take long for a soldier to stupidly rush in; I whipped my weapon up to greet him, but didn't pull the trigger. My heart exploded into overtime as he brought his rifle to train on me.
He must have seen the gaping hole in my upper chest, because he spun his weapon away from me and shouted, "Wo ist Herr Hitler?" Where is Sir Hitler?
Remembering to breathe again, I replied, "Der Gefangene stahl eine Waffe, tötete einigen Schutz, gefangengenommenes Hitler und floh in irgendeine Art der Vorrichtung." The prisoner stole a weapon, killed several guards, captured Hitler and fled in some sort of device.
Even through the slight shadow I knew the soldiers face must have been disbelieving. I saw the spaceship and still don't understand what happened. He must have seen the light from the other room, because he didn't question me. I could feel the adrenaline slowing, and feel my wound searing with pain.
Then with the light of the next room, I recognized the next face to walk in. It was the Gestapo officer who'd taken my letter and ordered me away from the bunker. His eyes passed over me, and I knew he'd figured out my intent. I spun my pistol up to meet him, but he'd already backed out of the room yelling, "Sie täuschen, er sind der Meuchelmörder!" You fool, he is the assassin!
I pulled my pistol around to meet the soldier in the room, but heard the report of another weapon and saw the soldier stumbling backwards with a hole in his chest. The Gestapo really didn't like incompetence.
If I stood any chance of getting out of here now, I knew I'd have to move quickly. Trying to ignore the warmth from my blood running down my chest, I threw myself towards the door—
—Only to see it slam shut in my face – plunging me into complete darkness yet again – it wasn't even a second before I heard the bangs from several objects hitting the door. They must have pushed a pile of wood onto the door; pinning it shut. Staggering backwards from the door, I began to think of more I could have written in the last letter for my son. It'd be several years before he could read it, but things I wanted to say just began flooding into me; I guess an inescapable death would make anybody sentimental.
Stepping backwards from the door, I looked down at the hole in my German uniform. The bullet had missed my lung by less then an inch, but seemed to have hit an artery, because blood was flowing out at incredible speeds. Without hesitating, and stifling a scream, I plunged my finger into the wound, plugging the artery and roughly slowing the blood flow.
If the backup didn't open the door shortly all they'd find was my body surrounded by a pool of blood.
Then I felt something strange; like a chill going down my spin. I've suffered from blood loss before, so I knew what it felt like; but this felt different. Goosebumps started creeping along my body and every hair began to stand on end. Almost as if the air around me was electrified.
Then with an incredible flash, the reason presented itself.
It looked identical to the first one, but didn't bother to camouflage itself. A slight glow still came from it; and it'd taken the place of a different pile of wood. The sudden thought struck me that Hitler returned, maybe something went wrong and they couldn't control it. I aimed my pistol towards the door, and held it at the ready.
Annoying me more than anything else, I felt my head spinning. I didn't think I'd lost that much blood but I guess I did. Keeping my pistol trained the door I waited for Hitler to step out. If I was about to die, it'd take hell itself to stop me from taking that murderer with me.
Drowning out the still blaring sirens, I heard a voice erupt around me; the accent sounded the same as the strange clothed man, but I had no doubt that they were different people. He asked in English, "Please lower your gun, I need to know what happened."
I shot a look at the door, and had no doubts that an overwhelming force would smash though at any moment. I didn't throw my pistol away, but lowered it, knowing how quickly I could bring it up if need presented itself.
Suddenly the door began to open and the strange accent said, "We don't have long, please step inside."
"This is impossible!"
I couldn't believe the size of the interior. I'd seen the outsides of this craft – it wasn't very large; but the inside resembled the interior of a war ship. I noticed several desks arranged everywhere, with buttons and strange screens coming from them. And then I spotted a single man; who wore the same shiny uniform.
"It's only theoretically impossible at your time; something of which we have little – I must know what happened."
Feeling the warm sensation of my blood trickling down my leg, I pushed back the pain and stepped forward, trying to figure out this very strange looking man. I said, "I don't understand how his is happening."
He replied far too fast for my liking, and his voice sounded extremely panicked, "Just accept that it is. I received an emergency signal, and came as soon as possible. I need to know what happened."
My training told me not to tell him anything, but my instincts were telling me the opposite. Walking closer to the man, I told him exactly what I saw; the man being dragged out, the camouflaged device – and Hitler boarding it.
The horrified look crossing his face told me I'd done the right thing. He sat thinking for a moment, then replied, "I have to assume the worst has happened. Hitler has figured out how to use the device, or forced my associate to use it. Then…."
"What are you talking about?"
"Mr Schofield, you are standing in a time machine."
I think I must have froze at what he said, because my mind went completely blank. He continued, "I have a list of people to go to in each time zone if something goes astray – you're on that list. I've travelled from the year 3000 and during that time the human race has advanced fast."
This still all felt very wrong, but looking around at a space so large that it couldn't possibly exist, I asked, "So that was another," The words still felt wrong coming out of my mouth. "Time machine that Hitler escaped in?"
He nodded, giving my mind a chance to try and accept what was happening.
The more I thought about it, the more I could feel my heart sinking – Hitler could take the machine into the future, steal advanced devices, go back to before the war even started and make sure they'll never loose a battle. It went without question that I couldn't let that happen.
Still trying to wrap my mind around the idea, I thought for a moment and felt my heart lift as an easy escape came to mind, I asked, "Can't we just go back to when your friend arrived and tell him to get back in his machine?"
I saw him hit a few buttons, and could hear a sort of low pitched hum emitting. After he'd finished, he turned to me and said, "I'm sorry, this is hard to explain, and some of it you won't understand. But to go back would compound events, it'd make things worse."
The constant humming sound began intensifying; I could feel the hairs on my arms standing on end again. I could also feel the world spinning around me, but not from the machine; I needed to sort out this annoying wound.
But I couldn't get the idea that we were doing his the hard way from my mind, "Worse then Hitler winning the war without loosing a single soldier – taking control of the world and exterminating everybody who wasn't in their superior race?"
The look on his face told me he wasn't joking, but his eyes noticed for the first time the hole in my jacket, and trail of blood I'd been leaving. He began to move towards me as I said, "Do you have any bandages? I need to sort this out." I saw his hand go into his jacket and pull out a small cylinder.
Even without me taking my shirt off, he pointed the cylinder nozzle inside the hole in my jacket and I heard a sharp hissing sound coming from the cylinder….
Looking down I saw this foam coming from the hole, and felt something entering my body….
Acting differently to any pain-killer I'd ever used, the pain seemed to vanish immediately, yet I could still feel the area around my wound. I could feel the questions burning yet again, but he told me before I could ask, "It's a bio-foam, it'll mould itself into any part of your body, letting blood flow and healing the wound."
Pulling open my shirt, I shot a look at the wound; grey foam spread out an inch from my wound….
Without any warning, the silver suited man spun and raced back to the strange screens. I asked, "Are we going forward in time to get some backup?"
"No, my future is gone. The moment my associate landed, everything changed; I was probably never even born."
"Wait, how can you be here if you were never born?"
He didn't even look up from his screens as he spoke, "When you're travelling, you go into a different dimension. The humming you heard it the engine emitting a distortion that vibrates – sorry, it's complicated – but basically in that dimension I'm safe from any changes in time."
"What do you mean by dimensions? That doesn't make sense…."
"I'm sorry Mr Schofield, but most of this won't. And I don't have time to explain."
"Alright then." My mind kept spinning from all this, I had to digest it all if I was to be of any use. I looked back at the man, and asked, "Can you tell where – I mean when Hitler stops?"
"Yes, I'm tailing their energy trails, there will be a peak when… wait I've found it…."
He furiously continued tapping on more buttons, I couldn't help but watch; I could do even less when I heard the engine humming again and felt every hair stand on end. I said, "When are we stopping?"
He hit a few more buttons and answered, "The year, umm 2006 I think. Damn!"
"That's possibly the worst time in history for him to land."
"A few months before we land, there was an event – basically it secured Australia as the dominate country on the earth. In about a year's time my country began destroying all the extremely powerful weapons around the world, similar to your atomic bombs, but much smaller and more powerful. After the weapons were gone, a reign of peace spread over the earth. Any further into the future and the weapons were far too well guarded for Hitler to steal."
"Wait, powerful weapons are extremely hard to steal in 1940, in 2000 something wouldn't it be harder?"
"They could stop the craft a meter from any bomb, any scientists they want, and take anything within a few seconds. And they aren't prepared in 2006 to deal with people stealing weapons like that." After tapping a few more buttons, Gale's eyes widened and he suddenly exclaimed, "I managed to steal the logs from the other device."
I was about to ask more questions when he continued, "I know all the files they accessed; and I we can probably figure out what they are planning, and exactly where and when they are going to stop. I'll drop us in a day before they land."
I started pacing back and forth, trying to think – we needed backup, I spoke up, "My son, he'd be … sixty three years old now, if he followed the family tradition and went into the Army or the Marines, he might still be fit enough…."
"I just downloaded the Earth's military database. Your son never joined the Military, he became an Aeroplane Mechanic, but never learnt to fly … wait I think we have another option—"
"You have a grandson!"
"What-da-hell do you wannt?"
How could this man be a Schofield?
I casting my eyes over the man; his tatted clothing looked like it hadn't been washed in months, and the smell confirmed this; but I could see defined muscle beneath. Despite the darkness inside the room, he still wore a strange pair of reflective glasses; and his breath stunk like cheap whisky.
And I don't think I've ever seen a more disgusting bar in my life.
The barkeep told me roughly, "I don't think you want to chat with him, go back to your fancy dress party."
I looked down at my German uniform, I'd forgotten about it completely; then stared back at the barkeep and told him roughly, "I can look after myself."
"So could the last 5 people he sent to hospital – and he'd drunken more before they had a go." He shrugged and walked away, grumbling, "Just don't break nothin'."
I turned to look at the drunk in front of me, asking him, "Are you Shane Schofield?"
He turned to face me and I could tell he'd been drunk for some time; I'll have to teach my son to bring up his children better. When Gale (the traveller) told me Shane had an impressive list of accomplishments I'd imagined the man as a younger version of myself. Not a drunk.
I felt like walking out in disgust, but he was family; and I'd never let my family down. "Some of this will hard to believe, but I'm Michael Schofield, you're grandfather."
He suddenly burst out laughing, and I honestly wasn't sure if he was about to attack me or offer me a beer. Then like a flash, his mood changed – like every happy emotion vanished – and I could feel his eyes glaring at me through his glasses. He moved so close I nearly coughed on his putrid breath, he growled, "Okay, first off, my grandfather died in the Great Berlin Siege, and if he was still around, he sure as hell wouldn't be my age. I haven't had enough to drink to believe that bull. Go back to whoever you work for and tell them if they try and recruit me again, I'll kill the messenger and then go straight for the boss."
He paused for a moment and said softer, "The military has f#$ked me around far too many times."
If I didn't see the ship myself, I knew I wouldn't have believed it either. I needed to take him into the craft – but he wasn't about to happily follow me and I really didn't have time to waste.
Seeing my own flesh and blood in this state; it didn't take much to bring my angry side to the surface – I matched his tone and replied, "Oh boo ho, I once had President Roosevelt personally send me into a place called Hell Island, up against two thousand suicidal Japanese troops. I was told there would be 400 really bored and unprepared Japs…."
His already raging temper rose incredibly; I was beginning to understand the only reason he drunk in this pitiful bar was so he could get into fights. If he'd inherited my reflexes, there weren't many civilians who could beat him in a fight. He roared at me, "Japs? The Japanese would have been easy, I got sent to take on killer-fu…." He stopped dead, glaring at me as if something was stopping him from telling me something. He lowered his voice and continued in more of a growl, "Don't think reciting some ancient file will convince me to join back up with the Marines." He paused for a moment, giving me a look up and down. "I'm gonna to do something I don't normally do and give you a chance to walk away. Take it."
I took a simple step back and motioned to the door, "No. I think we should take this outside."
Before I realised what happened, I felt my body jerking to the side; just in time to watch a whisky glass sailing past my head. Then moving faster then any man with that much alcohol in him should move, my grandson threw himself at me.
It looked like a perfect football tackle – and if I moved any slower – I'm sure it would have hit. If he got on top of me in his drunken rage, I wouldn't have stood much of a chance.
Side-stepping I threw my leg up in the path of his body, aiming to knock the wind out of him….
Only reacting far quicker then I anticipated—his arms wrapped around my leg as it connected with his gut. If he felt I blow, he didn't show it. Feeling my leg pinned against his chest, I spotted the slight satisfied smile over his face. I noticed his shoulders spinning first but couldn't do a thing as he dropped all the weight on his legs and spun/fell to the ground – taking me with him.
Next thing I realised, I could feel the cold slate beneath my body, and a heavy weight pinning me down. I tried to crane my head around, but Shane must have spun more, twisting my leg up and moving my spine in a way it really shouldn't be moved. I felt pain lance up my back, and my thigh muscles screaming at me for submission.
I should have aimed for his head!
If he held me like this for long, he could very easily break something. I threw my arm wildly in his direction, and he reacted exactly as I thought he would – he rocked back slightly….
And I leant my entire body in the direction he rocked back, I felt his weight shifting from me, and pushed harder—
—Suddenly I felt his weight off me – but he refused to release my knee, so I kept rolling and continued to pin him flat against the floor. Then looking down from above him, I didn't hesitate. I threw my fist towards his face, smashing into his glasses, in turn sending his head smashing against the cold slate.
His broken glasses dropped from his face; and milliseconds before I hit again, I saw his eyes – saw two vertical scars going down each one – somebody had tried to blind him. From the looks of the cuts, somebody must have succeeded.
"DON'T YOU F%^KING LOOK AT THEM, GET THE HELL OFF ME…."
Throwing my fist down again I connected directly in between his eyes. His head went limp and his body sagged against the ground. Standing up, I looked at the very nervous barkeep, and the other patrons surrounding us.
"How … how did you? Nobody's ever beaten…."
Bending down I grabbed the back of my grandson's jacket, then glared at the Barkeep, "I'm going to borrow him."
"It's easier this way."
"How's it easier?"
I glared at Gale and told him, "He wasn't being very helpful. Have you got any coffee, or something that'll sober him up quickly?"
Gale ran off to another room, and quickly returned with another little cylinder. He pushed it into Shane's unconscious mouth and pulled the trigger. I saw a white gas floating inside his mouth seconds before it was sucked in. Gale explained quickly, "It basically nulls the affects of alcohol. It doesn't help with the hangover though."
"Do you have a holding cell or anything aboard?"
"The second you let me out of here, I swear to god, I'm going to snap your neck."
Shutting my eyes in annoyance for a moment, I turned to face my grandson. I told him, "Do they still teach that crap in the Marines? Look, it's wrong. You get captured you turn submissive, obedient and don't make yourself stand out. I've been captured myself and learnt the hard way."
I couldn't help but notice Shane's eyes widen; he didn't seem to know what to make of me. He sounded almost like a teenager, "Stop, stop sounding like my dad. It's really unsettling."
I felt my cheeks almost hurting from the smile, I boasted, "Grant sounds like me? Really, that's…."
"You're not my grandfather! He died in the Berlin Siege."
Resisting the strong urge to ask what the Berlin Siege was, I nodded to Gale who told Shane, "I'm afraid that's not true. I'm from a thousand years into your future. I tried to come to the rescue of one of my associates who was sadly taken hostage. Everything went to hell, and basically Hitler is now in control of a Time Machine!"
I could tell by the look on Shane's face that he didn't believe a word Gale said, he sat back still looking very annoyed and said, "So you're from the future? Prove it!"
"What happened in the Berlin Siege?"
The look of disbelief over Gale's face almost made me grin. He tried to scold, "Do you really think this is the time to be asking questions?"
My cheeks were threatening to hurt again when Shane – or Scarecrow as he liked to be called answered for me, "Going over an ambush in your head a hundred times will only make things worse, you start to worry and doubt the plan, a little distraction is good. I learnt about the Siege in school and officer training if you want me to answer?"
Scarecrow seemed to be in his element, the alcohol appeared to be out of his system and his focus could easily be compared to mine; I honestly couldn't be prouder. I nodded and he told me, "After Hitler was assassinated, or I guess escaped; the fighting intensified twenty fold. Eva Braun took control of the tattered forces…."
Eva Braun? Hitler's wife?
I turned to face Scarecrow, preparing to question him more when he told me, "Yeah, apparently she'd been pulling strings throughout the entire war. With Hitler gone she stepped up to the plate, and did far too good of a job commanding."
Trying to get the idea of somebody pulling Hitler's strings from my mind, I looked across the bunkers surrounding us, and let Shane continue. "The German's didn't give an inch, and even after the allies took the city through sheer power in numbers, it was months before they could track down all the cells that kept popping up and shelling them. Berlin had the heaviest losses throughout the entire war."
"How could Eva Braun take control?" I couldn't get the idea out of my mind. I'd been given a quick briefing on her; the allies believed her to be a simple lady, who had little to no interest in politics.
Gale sounded equally surprised, "That's why we went back in time, too many things didn't add up. We wanted to discover what happened and our suits were supposed to keep us totally invisible and our impact would have been minimal, something must have gone very wrong inside that room…."
Suddenly I saw the two pairs of shoulders at either side of me freeze – I felt a chill running down my spine and my arms tingling as every hair stood on end. Hitler was arriving.
Looking through the scope of the strangest rifle I've ever seen, I lined up the target every soldier wished for.
I'd have thought Hitler would at least change his clothing; but his journey here must have been quick and unplanned. I could feel my finger taking the first trigger pressure.
Shane had told me about my new rifle, he called it an Assault Rifle but I couldn't remember the exact name – just some weird letters; he'd said it shot out 750 rounds per minute – why on earth you'd need it that fast was beyond me, but it sounded impressive enough. Scarecrow owned an almost scary amount of weapons; we'd gone back to his place and he'd shown us his arsenal. He grumbled something about being targeted by assassins and told me not to ask.
I took a rifle that appeared similar to the science fiction novels.
Shane grabbed a more sophisticated weapon, it boasted two barrels; one for a 5.56mm bullets, the other for a 20mm bombs. He'd offered me a similar weapon, but I honestly preferred my bolt action rifle; it took more care and precision – every shot needed to be accurate and show a true level of skill.
They were also less complicated.
From what we could figure, Hitler's plan also seemed surprisingly simple; he'd land in a highly fortified research facility, then using speed and surprise kidnap a few scientists, steal a few bombs and take them back to before the war started – then force the scientists to build more.
Watching the monster walk to the next bunker like building, I lined him up between the scope's targeting lines, then held my breath and squeezed the trigger; the recoil felt like….
Suddenly a brilliant blue surface of energy appeared where my bullet should have passed, and Hitler stood looking slightly shocked, and looking directly at me. I could feel my heart pounding against my chest. Flicking a switch on the side of the weapon, I pulled back the trigger feeling it shake against my shoulder as far too many bullets rocketed towards Hitler.
I took my eye away from the scope and stared at Hitler, hoping something got through – when the intense blue surface of energy disappeared, I saw Hitler standing completely unharmed, and looking very smug. We made eye contact and I had no doubts he recognised me.
Then around us we heard alarms begin to wail; and heard doors slamming open as the security of the base came alive. Everything was going straight to hell.
Gale screamed above the wailing alarms, "NO! Hitler must have taken the shielding device off my associate. I don't understand how he could have found it…."
Cutting Gale off mid yell, I screamed, "Shane, drop two bombs either side of hi…."
I needn't have said anything, before I could even finish my sentence, Shane loosed two bombs – they landed perfectly at either side of the mass murder and exploded brilliantly. The blue surface turned into more of a sphere that surrounded Hitler perfectly. The two explosions were so intense that fire consumed the blue sphere completely.
I felt my heart leap as the sphere disappeared beneath the fire.
But then far too quickly the explosion disappeared, and Hitler stood in the middle. The concrete outside the sphere had been destroyed, but where Hitler stood looked completely unharmed; as did Hitler.
I couldn't push back my fury anymore, this monster was about to get away – again.
Hitler broke into a run, jumping through the crater, he screamed, "Erhalten Sie sie in die Vorrichtung, lassen Sie eine Waffe und bringen Sie sie zur Detonation. Jetzt!" Get them into the device, leave one weapon and detonate it. Now!
I felt my body jumping up to charge at him without realising it; then felt a powerful hand rip my shoulder and throw me to the ground. I flew back to my feet, ready to swing at whoever threw me down. Shane stood above me, his weapon going to his shoulder. Feeling the blood rush to my face – I aimed to knock him out of the way, and charge for Hitler.
He wasn't getting away from me again.
Suddenly I felt wind slam past us, and heard the impact as the bullets slammed against the truck we'd been using for cover. I spun instinctively towards our attacker, and flicking a lever dropped the magazine from the weapon, and went for another – only Shane beat me to it – he offloaded three rounds and then glared down at me, "We've just lost, accept it."
I spotted our attacker – the first of many base guards – falling backwards; Shane had killed him without a second thought.
I told them, "Hitler just ordered somebody to detonate a device."
With his eyes still scanning everywhere around him, Shane asked Gale, "Does the ship have any devices that can override the codes?"
Gale nodded silently. Shane looked about as angry as me now; he spun towards the truck and roared, "We're getting away from here now."
Whomf … Whomf …
My eyes widened as Shane staggered backwards, reeling from two bullets to the chest. Without going to his aid, I whipped up my weapon and shot two bullets towards his attacker. I knew they hit without even looking. Grabbing Shane's arms, I dragged him towards the front door of the truck, then finding a handhold, ripped open the door – revealing the warship interior.
I dragged Shane inside and heard the door slam shut behind Gale.
I heard Shane groan, "Get us moving now!"
Gale rushed towards a few panels and like somebody on fire began hitting buttons. I felt the similar electrical feelings as the engine powered up. Watching Shane wobble to his feet, I saw him taking off the bullet-proof vest he'd given us both. I had no doubts he'd have a hell of a bruise.
Shane had asked a hundred questions on how to use the device while we'd been planning, most had gone over my head, but he rushed to another screen slamming his fingers against even more buttons.
Suddenly our surroundings changed, replaced with an extremely life-like view of outside. Gale had called it holo something. Everything outside began to fade away; I looked towards the building Hitler had been inside, when suddenly a brilliant white light consumed everything…
"Do the devices have some sort of dead man emergency feature?"
I seriously wished I could help, but I hardly understood a thing they said. Gale stopped for a moment, staring at my grandson. "Yes, if the device is out of control, a signal can force it to jump back into Earth time. There's a danger of compounding event…."
"Do it now."
I stared ahead; the holo-something showed us Hitler's time machine rocketing through blackness.
"But we don't know when it'll stop…."
Gale hit a few buttons, and suddenly the device ahead of us started glowing, and then disappeared. Gale slammed a few more buttons and I felt the engine powering up again.
Gale exclaimed, "I don't believe it, we're back in 1945, three days after we left. It's following the last exit path. The distortion weakens the barrier and leaves a path…."
Shane didn't seemed bothered with explanations, he roared at Gale, "Land us next to Hitler's device, about a minute before he lands."
Gale frantically hit a few more buttons, and suddenly we were in the lumber room again.
The door had been slammed in, and woodpiles had been knocked over; other then that the room appeared deserted. Together with Shane we ran outside. I showed him where the door had been last time; then took position behind another woodpile, hopefully out of view from the craft.
Gale's calculations must have been perfect, because I felt my neck tingling, and saw the bright light of the craft arriving. Two seconds later we heard German voices yelling, and footsteps charging out of the machine.
The moment we heard the door slam shut, Shane and I sprung up together – weapons drawn and offloaded an ultra fast flurry of shots into the guards, dropping them within a second. Another 10 very scared looking people in lab coats stood to the side; ignoring them I spun my weapon towards Hitler, and loosed a single round to his head. Annoyingly enough, the blue shield appeared…
And with a look of fear in his eye, Hitler ran.
I heard Gale's voice surround us, "The shield only stops high speed projectiles."
I grinned and took chase, with Shane nipping at my heels.
I had to admit, Hitler ran faster then I expected – but people running for their lives usually do. He made it up the steps and roared at his guards. I flicked on the automatic again, and sprayed the bewildered soldiers rushing to greet us, dropping them fast.
My weapon went dry and I pushed myself against the staircase as Scarecrow rushed past and sprayed more bullets. I reached into my pocket and pulled out two cyanide pills passing one to my grandson. "It's got to be a suicide."
Shane nodded and landed on the second level. He must have seen the room Hitler ran into, because he charged without a second thought. I followed hot at his heels this time.
Entering the room, I grinned at Hitler, he'd backed himself into a corner. There was a door leading outside, but Shane stood at the exit, blocking the mass murderer's way. I stalked towards him, and saw him visibly shake. Feeling the excitement rush through me, I charged towards him, and passing the shield slammed him to the ground.
Jumping on top on him, I pushed the cyanide pill into his mouth and forced him to swallow it.
Looking at his very frightened body, I found the only out of place thing, a little black box that hung from his belt. I ripped it off and staggered backwards watching Hitler stumble to his feet, clutching his throat at the cyanide began to take affect.
Suddenly I heard the report of a bolt action weapon firing within the small room, and smelt the cordite immediately – and saw Hitler's head slam backwards as a bullet slammed into it. Feeling shock rush into me, I spun to see Eva Braun at the door holding a rifle in her hand, he yelled, "Er kann nicht nichts nach rechts tun, pathetisches das…." He cannot do anything right, that pathetic….
She swung the rifle towards me, but before I could raise my own in defence she shot off a round, slamming against the blue barrier. She didn't get another chance, Shane slammed into the woman, sending her and the weapon crashing against the ground. He landed on top of her pushing the second pill into her mouth, and then made her swallow it.
Her hands went straight for her neck, and foam began to froth come from her mouth, the stomach acid starting to bubble up her throat as the sodium cyanide reacted with her insides. She didn't stand a chance.
Moving away from the two dead monsters, I grinned to my grandson. "Let's get out of here!"