Time War: Invasion (12 page)

“They won’t work. We can’t bullshit our way through this. We couldn’t even convince once field officer that our story was solid, so how do you think that will work when we have some serious interrogators before us? No, from now on, transparency. They aren’t willing to believe the bullshit, fine, let’s hit them with the truth.”

“What are you saying?”

“That we state the facts, Beyett. Who we are, where we came from, and why we’re here.”

“That’s madness. We’ll be locked up, and they’ll throw away the keys. You know how crazy this all sounds if you aren’t the ones to experience it? Would you have ever believed a story if some strangers turned up in our time with this tale?”

Corwin shook his head.

“No, but we have truth on our side.”

Porter laughed.

“Truth, you think people want the truth?” He laughed once again.

“I don’t see we have any other choice left. We have some proof. We have technology that is far beyond this age.”

“That is all dead,” replied Beyett.

“We have powers and strengths that are superhuman.”

“If anything, they’ll probably believe we are some kind of Nazi experiment. It’s about the most likely answer. Especially as you can damn well guarantee Villiers has been implementing his ideas for enhanced soldiers by now. We’ll be seen as freaks and creations of the enemy,” said Beyett.

“Got any better idea?” Corwin asked coldly, resting back against the bench seat of the truck.

They could all see he was calm and completely serious, and none of them had a better solution.

“Exactly. We go along with this and don’t cause trouble. We prove we aren’t the enemy and that we can be trusted, and we can gain the support we need.”

Beyett shook his head, and yet he could find no other solution. They reached the beaches and saw hundreds of ships and smaller boats out at sea, as well as endless lines of landing craft, tanks, and trucks on the beaches.

“This is not how it went at all.”

They all waited for him to go on as the truck rocked to a halt on the beach.

“This is like some hybrid between the disaster of Dieppe, and the triumphant success and logistical marvel of D-day, all rolled into one.”

“And which do you think it will be, disaster or triumph?” asked Corwin.

Beyett shook his head.

“I just don’t know, anymore.”

As their truck came to a halt on the shoreline, Porter made one last attempt to convince Corwin to change his mind.

"Last chance, we can fight our way out of this now, or be caged for God knows how long."

Corwin glared at him.

"Don't you dare try and fuck this up. We stick to plan. Transparency and honesty, it's the only hope we have left."

They were ushered off the truck and towards the beach, wading up to their knees before clambering aboard a rickety open top landing craft. The ramp slammed home before them. Corwin could see the look of absolute loss and defeat in the eyes of them all, except for Beyett.

"It was the right thing to do," he said to reassure Corwin who was not entirely convinced.

They soon found themselves aboard a small warship and heading for England. It was a bizarre turn of events, but Corwin started to feel some relief that they could finally stop hiding from the world. They'd lived and operated as an isolated team for so long, but he had never realised how significant and valuable their support network and resources really were to him.

* * *

45 hours later
 
-

The men of Corwin's platoon lay about a bunkroom in a POW camp. They had no idea where they were, nor the location of the women, but Corwin had no fears for their health. He knew they were tough, and he trusted the Allies to look after them, no matter how crazy their story seemed. The group had barely spoken any words since arriving. They were waiting for something, they just didn't know what, but they knew they were unusual enough that eventually some questions would be asked. Finally, the call came.

"Sergeant Corwin!"

He stood up quickly to see two guards at the door waiting to escort him out.

"Don't fuck this up," said Porter.

Corwin nodded in appreciation of the helpful comment and carried on. He was led to the entrance of the camp and passed many German and Italian POWs, all still wearing their uniforms, only stripped of any Nazi related insignia. Not one of the enemy had spoken to them since they arrived. They looked intimidated by the physical size and strength of Corwin's squad.

He was show into a brick building at the entrance gates where he knew the commander of the camp resided, but instead he was led to another room in the same structure. It was a small interrogation room where a British officer sat waiting for him. As he stepped inside, a guard pulled shut a heavy barred security door and locked it. The officer was sitting casually and comfortably before him, and bore the rank of Captain. He looked inviting and friendly, gesturing for Corwin to step inside and take a seat at the table across from him. He was shocked by Corwin's muscular physique and kept looking back through a small paper file in front of him. He stuttered as he began to speak.

"I...I...I am Captain Hotwell."

"Sergeant Corwin," he replied politely.

"Yes...yes...I can see that in your file. What I am trying to understand, Sergeant, is not what your name is, but who you are. The story of your capture is most unconventional. I have a report here from a Captain Reeves to say that you and your comrades captured a German command post by yourselves and with no casualties. But then you could not identify yourselves and entered into combat with his men, but that you did so without the use of lethal force. You never fired your guns, why?"

Corwin raised his eyebrows, as that was an awful lot of information he had brought up, so he just focused on the last question.

"Because we are not the enemy."

"I really want to believe that, Sergeant. But you must understand, you were caught in enemy territory during a mission of vital importance. Yet the Americans have never heard of you, and they assure us they had nobody operating in the area."

Corwin took in a deep breath. He had been playing this situation out in his mind for days, but he still couldn't find the right way to do it.

"I can keep feeding you bullshit, or I can be straight with you, but you're not gonna like it."

"Let me be the judge of that please, Sergeant. Give me the facts. Who do you work for, what was your mission, and why have you not identified yourself if you are indeed an ally?"

"If you're willing to hear this, then I will tell it to you straight, but let me finish before you begin to doubt my story."

"Go on." He sat back to listen intently.

"The simple fact is this, we were there to hunt down the most dangerous man in the world; a man who should not be in this time and place, just as we should not be either. You cannot find record of us, and we cannot explain that because we were not born in this age, not in your lifetime, or anyone else alive here in this world. I never thought any of this possible until we arrived here."

Hotwell looked both completely confused and enthralled all at once as Corwin went on.

"A few days ago we were close to ending the world war we knew, until the leader of the enemy forces did the most unlikely of things. He travelled through time, and we went after him to try and stop him."

Hotwell was shaking his head and smiling now.

"Time travel? I didn't take you for much of a reader, Sergeant, but I think you might have been delving into fiction a little too much of late."

"I told you I would give you the truth, not that you would be ready to hear it."

That made Hotwell curious, and he leaned in across the table.

"Okay, I will play this game to its end, and then we will get the real truth. What year have you come from?"

"2074," Corwin replied quickly.

"And in this 2074, what are you?"

"Sergeant Corwin, Second Platoon, 1st Battalion, 12th Allied Infantry Division."

"From what nation do you hail?"

"As an Allied Division, we are drawn from many of the Allied powers. What you know today as America, Canada, United Kingdom, France, Germany, and many more."

Hotwell squinted as he racked his brain and thought about it.

"France and Germany, allies?"

"Is it so hard to believe that in over a hundred years, things might have changed a little?"

"No, what it is a little hard to understand, Sergeant, is how you can feed me these outrageous and preposterous fantasies, and expect to be taken at all seriously. What else has changed in the hundred years since your time? Can men fly without engines, and do you live on the moon?"

Corwin shook his head. "Then what do you believe I am?"

"My best guess would be a spy. I believe you staged the deaths of the German officers you were found beside, and attempted to infiltrate our armies to some malicious end. And I believe you are now trying to feed me tall tales so that I will rightfully dismiss you as crazy and stop digging into the real story. Well, I am here to tell you, Sergeant, I will not stop digging, and I will not stop asking these questions until I get the answers that I am satisfied with."

"Then we will be here a long time."

"Okay, Sergeant, I will give you one opportunity to prove to me that you are indeed telling the truth and are not of this time. Prove it."

Corwin thought about it for a moment.

"Me and my people, we are not any ordinary soldiers."

"Go on?"

"We are what is known as Augmented and Psychologically Enhanced Servicemen."

"And what does that mean?"

Corwin looked around the room and to the heavy door barring the entrance.

"Could any human open that door without touching the lock?"

"Not with force, no," he replied confidently.

"May I?"

Hotwell nodded in agreement and sat back to watch out of curiosity. Corwin got up slowly and stepped up to the door. He placed a hand at either side of the door and gripped tightly before applying force. Brickwork splintered as the mountings were torn from the wall, and the door and frame from their position in one. He threw it down against the wall. The heavy iron made a crash as it landed and echoed down the corridor. A few seconds later a guard appeared before them with a submachine gun in hand.

"It's okay!" Hotwell shouted.

The guard looked at the damage in amazement and went to go onwards in Corwin's direction, but the Captain had his hand up to stop him and leapt across the room to stand between the two.

"We're fine here. Now leave us."

The guard looked highly uncomfortable as Hotwell ushered him out the doorway and sent him packing, and he turned to see Corwin had sat back down casually. Hotwell took up his seat again and stared at the Sergeant for a few moments, contemplating what he had just experienced.

"You've got me curious, Sergeant. Clearly, you are a lot more than you seem. But I still have no reason to believe the more than farfetched account of how you got here."

"And how could I convince you?"

"If you really are from the future, then you must be able to predict events before they happen, must you not?"

Corwin sighed and shook his head.

"Even if I knew that much about this time, and one of my team does, it has already been changed. The villain we followed to this time arrived sometime before us, and events are already unfolding differently than we know in our history."

"Well, isn't that convenient?" Hotwell asked sarcastically.

"No, it is a goddamn nightmare," replied Corwin sternly, "You have no idea what you are dealing with. In my history, you won this war. But the villain we tracked here, he can, and already is, turning the tide. If you do not set us free, and help us to complete our mission, this war could already be lost."

Hotwell took a deep breath and thought about it all.