Time War: Invasion (16 page)

"So what, you took a gamble, and this is where you ended up?"

For a moment he let himself believe everything Corwin and Beyett was telling him, but then the absurdity of their story struck home, but he didn't say anything.

"It's true that we came here by chance, and it could not have been a worse time and place for Villiers to end up. With his mind, intentions, and abilities, he can change the world forever. He already has."

"But why would he side with Hitler? What possible reason would he have to do that?"

"Villiers wants nothing more than to destroy the United States and her allies, and he will do absolutely anything to achieve that goal."

"That's it? He doesn't want power or wealth or anything, just to destroy?"

Corwin shrugged.

"The made a monster of Villiers, a monster that we had more than a fair share in creating, and now we must kill it before it destroys humanity as we know it," replied Beyett.

Hotwell was going pale again as he felt the heavy burden being placed on him.

"Then give me a couple of days. It isn't as easy as pulling out a few files. I'll do all that I can to try and help, Sergeant."

"Don't try, do. We've wasted weeks rotting away in cells. Now we need to make up that time."

"We're soldiers, not clerks. We need to be out there tracking Villiers down."

"And where would you start, Porter?" asked Corwin.

Porter shrugged.

"We need information more than anything right now. Let's get to work."

A few hours later there was a knock on the door, and Nylund opened it to find a military tailor with a wheeled cart full of uniforms. He rolled the cart inside, and Nylund ran his hand over the coarse wool fabrics.

“You have got to be kidding me?”

Corwin grinned. “Got to look the part.”

Three days went by, and the billiards table became a pile of maps and notes. They each now wore the complete wool suit-like uniforms that itched all over. Photographs and maps were pinned to three large boards either side of the length of the table, and four staff allocated to them were constantly processing file after file of paper documents. Beyett sat at one end of the table, seemingly in charge of the chaos, and he was racking his brains as he stared at one map for thirty minutes.

Corwin was slumped in a chair across the room and knew they had ground to a halt. He looked down at an aerial photo he had in his hands. It had been there five minutes, and he didn’t even remember what he was looking for anymore. He threw the photo down on the table and stepped up to stretch.

“Enough!”

Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked to him. They all hoped he had some answer, but he was so far from it.

“This isn’t working. We keep hammering away at this, and all we’re doing is fucking with our minds.”

“So what’s the plan, Boss?” Chas piped up.

The three women were dressed in skirts and tunics marked up as motor transport. Vi and Lecia looked appalled by it, but Chas sported the uniform as if she was modelling it and glowed with a sexy smile on her face.

“Come on, we’re getting out of here. We need to clear our heads.”

He picked up his red beret from the table and walked out of the room without another word. The rest followed out of curiosity and went outside to the jeeps supplied for them. The sun was going down as Corwin jumped into the driver’s seat of the nearest one. Hotwell leapt in beside him.

“Where are we going?”

“The team needs to let off some steam, or they’re going to tear each other apart. Where can we get a drink around here?”

“Now you’re talking,” said Porter.

“Head out the gates, and take a right. I’ll guide you from there.”

The engines fired up, and they turned on the tiny blackout lights on the wings of the vehicles. They gave little more than a light haze around the front of the jeeps. They got out onto the country roads, and Corwin was relieved to feel the fresh breeze on his skin. It didn’t feel sharp anymore. They were already becoming acclimatised to the temperate zone that was now their home.

“You got a first name, Sergeant?”

Corwin saw he was genuinely curious. He was really warming to Hotwell. He’d proven a valuable ally in an alien world.

“Wyatt.”

“Like Wyatt Earp?”

“Yeah, what of it?”

“Coming all the way from the future, I’d expect something weird and wonderful,” he smiled, "It’s not a bad man to be associated with. Earp was a great American. The name’s John, by the way.”

Corwin appreciated him sharing such personal information. He could already tell in his time there that few people were on first names terms, except for long-term friends and comrades.

“You any closer to believing our story yet, John?”

He shook his head. “You know how hard it is for me to wrap my head around it? And that I cannot share this with anyone around me? You ask me to support a story so insanely far fetched that I might enjoy it, were it a work of utter fiction, but terrifies me to consider it a reality?”

“No, I can’t, because I’ve never had to hear such a story and be asked to believe it. A few weeks ago, I thought time travel was something for dreamers and storytellers. I wish it were not the case.”

“Assuming I do believe it all, why did you take that leap?”

“Because Villiers has to be stopped, and we were all that could do it. We were there at the very end with one opportunity. But it wasn’t a difficult decision to make. We could make that jump, or die there and then with nuclear weapon that was set to detonate after Villiers had left.”

“Nuclear?”

“You don’t want to know,” added Beyett, “Pray you never know. Though that will be a problem we will likely have to deal with if we survive long enough.”

“So you had no choice but to come through? This or death?”

“Yep, that’s about the sum of it.”

“Do you regret it?”

Corwin laughed. “This or death? Only a fool would choose death.”

“Do you think you will ever see home again?”

Corwin thought about it for a while.

“I’m don’t even know where that is anymore. We’ve been fighting across the world for so long, home is us right here. I’m not sure it matters where we are.”

“Then who are you fighting this war for?”

He hesitated for a moment and then answered, “I was never great with history, but I know who the good guys were in this.”

“And you are yet to discover the true extent of the evil the Nazis really are,” added Beyett.

They rolled into a pleasant village that appeared untouched by the war, and Hotwell was quick to point out the first drinking establishment. They pulled up outside along a line of other jeeps.

"I'm afraid the area has been rather taken over by the Americans of late, but I suppose you'll fit right in."

It was an old pub called The Boar, and looked as though it had remained unchanged for a couple of hundred years. The front door wasn't even tall enough to let Rane through without him ducking under. Hotwell led them inside with Corwin close behind. As they stepped in, they found a dozen US paratroopers staring at them. A couple nodded to welcome the Captain who they clearly recognised, but they looked at Corwin and his lot with suspicion. Rane's size caused a few gasps, but it was when the women entered that a few wolf whistled, and several clapped with glee.

"I'm sorry, but this lot aren't used to seeing women in such an establishment. They might be a little rowdy," said Hotwell.

They looked over and saw Chas shaking her ass at them, smiling as she played to the crowd, but the other two looked less than impressed.

"You might like to keep the women close," he added.

Corwin smiled. "They can take care of themselves. It’s them you should be concerned for," he said, pointing to the paratroopers.

Hotwell and Corwin pushed their way through to the bar, and the Captain put in an order without a word to the others.

"Evening, fella," said one of the American airborne soldiers to Corwin.

"Hi," he replied suspiciously.

"Billy Adcock, 82nd," he replied with his hand stretched out to greet him.

He spoke in a thick Texan accent and seemed friendly. He had Sergeant’s stripes on his sleeves, just as Corwin did.

"Wyatt Corwin."

The man looked taken aback. "You're no limey."

Corwin looked confused. He had no idea what the man meant.

"Not an Englishman," Hotwell clarified.

"How'd you end up with this lot?"

"Beats me."

"So you coming with us on this operation?"

"Which operation?"

"Well, no one rightly knows, but it's coming. We've been training for something all week, something big. I just figured you lot would have been in on it."

Corwin looked to Hotwell for answers, but he had none.

"Seen any action yet?" Adcock asked.

Hotwell passed him his drink, and he took the first sip as he nodded in response. It was a frothy and still dark beer. Entirely alien to Corwin's taste buds, and yet remarkably soothing.

"North Africa?"

Corwin sighed. "Amongst others."

"Jeez, you sure have got around. We’ve been here four months just waiting to get in this fight."

"Your time will come, Sergeant. It will for all of us. Let's not wish it any sooner than it needs to," replied Hotwell, walking past with a large wooden tray with full glasses for the rest of the team. Adcock looked surprised to see the only officer amongst them, both buying and carrying the round.

"Sure wish we had officers like you, Sir," he said.

Corwin patted the man on the back before following the Captain over to a couple of tables where the rest of them were sitting.

"They're gearing up for another operation? Must be something substantial," Corwin whispered to Hotwell and slid the glasses out to each of them.

"I've not heard a thing."

"If the Major wants us to share details with him, we need a little back."

"Lieutenant Colonel now. Williams has been acting CO for a few weeks. He just received confirmation of the promotion."

"Good, we need someone like that in our corner, but we also need in on this operation."

"What?" They heard Vi yell.

The bar went quiet as everyone turned to look at her. Corwin could see three of the paratroopers eyeing her up and discussing her hair and tattoo with such curiosity. She rose out of her seat with Lecia in support as they strode across the room to confront the three men.

"This should be interesting," Porter said, putting his feet up on the table and sitting back to enjoy the show.

The two stopped before the men and eyed them up and down. The three laughed and clearly had little respect for either of them.

"You've got something to say, let's hear it," said Vi.

One of them pointed over at Chas sitting on the lap of one of the paratroopers on a barstool.

"That's a lady. We were just trying to work out what you were."

"Too much for you to handle is what I am."

They laughed, but out of the corner of her eye, Vi noticed something interesting. Two of the men sat opposite one another with hands locked in an arm wrestling competition. She'd never seen such a thing before, and it got her curious.

"You see that?" she asked them as she pointed to the challenge, "I bet there's not one among you who could take me down."

The tallest among them laughed so loud he almost fell over. But Vi took a step back and hauled a table over in between them, grabbed a chair, and sat down.

"Come on, I don't want to embarrass you in front of all your buddies," said the man.

"You got any balls or not?" she snapped back.