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South of Marienwerder, West Prussia
Nazi Germany
January 28, 1945

 

SS Colonel Friedrich Steiner watched the locomotive back out of the chamber. He shouted at the men unloading the already arrived boxcars to hurry up, then waved off another crew heading for the newly delivered cargo.

“Leave those be!”

The men stared at him for a moment, then returned to help the others. He could tell they were curious why these two cars weren’t to be touched, but he didn’t care. It was none of their business, and he didn’t owe them an explanation.

Though perhaps it didn’t matter if they knew.

He turned to see the lamps of the locomotive now gone, its engine still echoing through the chamber. He beckoned his second-in-command to join him.

“Yes, sir?”

“As soon as they’re finished, execute them.”

His second-in-command’s eyes widened for a moment, but he snapped back to attention. “Yes, sir!”

Steiner pointed at three of his men. “You three, come with me.” He strode briskly after the locomotive, and shook his head as someone shouted for the idiot to turn off his lights, their beams a beacon for Allied air power in the pitch dark.

He emerged into the frigid cold of a Prussian winter, but suppressed the shiver, never one to let his men see any sign of weakness. He turned on his flashlight, the beam slicing through the night, though not carrying far, just enough to make sure he didn’t twist an ankle on the uneven ground. He spotted the engineer leaning out his window.

“Get down!”

There was hesitation, as if the man sensed something not to his liking was about to happen.

And he was right.

The plan had never been to allow him to leave alive. He needed a trustworthy, reliable man—either through loyalty to the Führer and the Party, or, as in this case, through leverage—who could be counted on not to speak to anyone of his priority mission.

And now that his job was done, his life was forfeit.

As was everyone’s here.

There could be no witnesses to what had just taken place. The priceless artifacts transported here over the past several days would be safe, but only as long as no one knew where they were.

And that meant no witnesses who had seen the crates, could be left alive.

Including this engineer.

“Sir?”

“Now!”

He motioned to his men, and they all raised their weapons, aiming them at the cab of the massive locomotive. Gunshots erupted from the tunnel entrance as his men executed his orders, the crew inside evidently finished their task.

Unfortunate timing.

The sound of the engine changed, and the wheels screeched as they spun, the train reversing as the engineer apparently realized he was about to die. Steiner pointed at the cab and his men opened fire, their MP35 submachine guns pumping lead as the train slowly pulled away. Windows shattered and bullets ricocheted, but there was no evidence they had found their mark, and the train continued to pick up speed.

He rushed ahead, drawing his weapon, and leaped onto the side of the train, hauling himself up. He slipped on the built-up ice, his feet dragging along the ground, and he regretted having drawn his weapon before securing his footing. Dangling by one hand, he shoved his Luger back in its holster, then dragged himself onto the running board. Stable, he drew his weapon and thrust his head through the shattered window, his pistol leading the way. He couldn’t see the engineer. He pulled out his flashlight, shining it into the cab.

And spotted him on the other side.

“Halt!”

The engineer spun toward him, raising his hands. “Please, don’t! I swear I won’t tell anyone what I saw!”

Steiner chuckled. “You’re right about that.”

He fired three shots into the man, his victim collapsing in a heap in the corner. He opened the door and stepped inside, staring at the controls for a moment before taking a guess at what were the brakes.

He was right.

He shone his flashlight on the man’s face, still alive, though not for long, and wondered what his final thoughts were.

Probably of his wife.

He jumped down to the ground as the train came to a halt, making a note that the wife should be picked up.

After all, we can’t have anyone speaking ill of the Reich.