Shadows Will Fall Read Free Page B

Filotoma said. “Not old, fat Nick.”
    Terah said, “I also caught what looked like small detachments of storm troopers in camouflage smocks marching out of the castle.”
    Rucker nodded. “Field patrols. Covering the countryside around the citadel. And I made four teams of snipers and spotters stationed on the spires, looking outward. They really don’t want anyone wandering in here . . . or out.
    â€œEveryone saw the yard exercisers, right?” he said. “Any thoughts on what that was about?”
    Even Deitel had seen what looked like three full companies of soldiers doing calisthenics in the courtyard.
    â€œI’ve never seen that kind of uniform,” Terah said.
    Deitel remembered it now—they wore some kind of burgundy colored coverall with black trim. There was something else he’d noticed . . . something off.
    â€œThey were workers? Field engineers?” Filotoma offered.
    â€œNo,” Rucker said. “Their shoulder tabs and sleeve patches were Waffen-SS—a collection of noncoms, mostly. Why that many sergeants in a military company?” he asked.
    Deitel had it.
    â€œThey were all well into their thirties and early forties, weren’t they?”
    Rucker thought about it and nodded. “Dead on, Doctor. Not exactly the usual cream of the crop, fresh-faced warriors the Waffen-SS likes to post to important missions. I don’t know what it means, but they wouldn’t bring close to a thousand middle-aged noncommissioned officers out here without a reason.”
    â€œThere’s something else,” Deitel said. “I listened to the guards—storm troopers—when they escorted us. Word has spread among them, the SS rank and file here. They know who you are, Fox. You’re wanted at the highest levels. Which means they know you’re dangerous. You should have heard their voices. They’ve heard what you did to Skorzeny and Schädel. They’re rattled.”
    Rucker nodded. “Maybe we can use that.”
    Rucker was now giving out assignments exactly as he had as a POW during the war. They were prisoners of a secret war now.
    â€œOkay, Terah—you’re on security. Nick? Scrounging. And let’s start brainstorming. Kurt?”
    â€œSir?” Deitel found himself saying.
    â€œYou’re medical. Naturally. Check everyone you can. Keep track of when we get food and water. Place like this, you’ll want to watch for infections and bites first. Even a scrape can turn deadly in no time. Do whatever you can with what little we have. Get Nick’s flask and safeguard it. Keep wounds clean. We don’t know how long we’ll be here.”
    â€œRight,” the doctor said.
    Rucker and Filotoma started coming up with escape plans, arguing through the cell doors over various ideas. Deitel directed Terah through a self-examination of every cut, scrape, and bruise. He portioned out just enough of Nick’s 180 proof to clean a few open scrapes.
    â€œYou goddamned fools,” Amria said from her cell—equal parts anger and mocking.
    â€œHow so?” Terah asked.
    â€œYou’re all so confident, making your plans,” she said. “Fate laughs at the plans of men.”
    â€œNo, making plans is what lends us confidence,” Terah said. “And fate didn’t count on one thing.”
    â€œWhat is that?” Amria asked.
    â€œThe Nazis may have the perfect jail here, under rock and stone and a six-hundred-year-old castle. They have numbers and they have the spear. But they made a terrible mistake.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” Deitel asked.
    â€œThey put something in here that you never, ever want to put in a dungeon like this,” Terah said. “Not if you want to keep people in. Not if you don’t want to lose.”
    Amria looked around their cells at the detritus, bones, debris, and rusted chains. Deitel did, too, seeking a weapon of some