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Dolph opened his eyes to snow tinged treetops and gray skies. His breath frosted before his face as he tried to move then winched. The castle towers from which he fell slowly materialized before him as the pain in his back increased. He reached behind with his right hand, touching the spot where the pain emanated and expecting the worse. He raised his fingers then smiled. There was no blood, but he knew something was broken.
He tried to sit up but the pain forced him back down. He was thankful his rear armor held, and he was also thankful the combination of tree limbs and his chute cushioned his fall. He wanted to lie still for a few moments longer but he dared not. The Malian and the Freedonian might not be thorough, but he knew that damned Bavarian burgermeister would be. A patrol would scour the woods for his remains and he was determined to disappoint them.
He turned over and discovered the book. It survived the fall protected in the padded satchel. Another form of the padding had saved Dolph’s life. He always wore it as extra precaution, another miracle from the African books. He picked up the satchel as he sat up then used a nearby sapling to stand. His legs were uninjured. He walked as fast as he could, his destination a secluded cove on the nearby river. He reached the cove then uncovered the boat he’d hidden for just such a situation. Clinching his teeth against the pain he placed the satchel into the boat then climbed in. He shoved the boat away from the shore then paddled the best he could into the slow river current. Luckily for him winter had yet to descend on Bavaria in full fury, therefore the river had not frozen. He paddled until the current embraced the boat then he pulled the oars in then lay on his back, letting the flow to take him to his next destination.
The Switzerland site had been a last minute decision. He was sure he could convince the Reichstag of the importance of his mission but he was skeptical of how long it would hold their interest. The debacle in North Africa severely shortened his timetable, but he was prepared. The incident in Bavaria unnerved him. This horro was much cleverer than he expected, especially for an African. The Freedonian was no surprise; he was a man who shot before he thought, so he would be easy to deal with if encountered again. Still, Dolph had to admire his skill with his weapons.
He dosed off a number of times as his boat guided itself down the river, awakened when the current had run it aground. This time he awoke to grand mountains on either side of the river. He was in Switzerland. He could no longer afford sleep, for he would have to be vigilant to spot his mooring. Grabbing his paddle he did the best he could maneuvering the boat in the increasingly fast current. He remembered the task being much easier when he first mapped out the escape route, but at the time didn’t have broken bones. After struggling down the river for at least an half an hour the mooring appeared, a sliver of wood protruding from a stand of dense poplar trees along the rocky bank. He worked the boat through the rocks, finally reaching the mooring. He smiled when he saw the rope on the mooring. The Swiss kept their bargain, maintaining the mooring in pristine condition despite in never being used. He struggled from the boat onto the pier then secured the craft before removing the satchel. Once on the dock he reached into his jacket then extracted a small communicator similar to the one he used for contacting Georg and Tomas. He cursed as he remembered the two, both dead at the hands of the African and the Freedonian. The casualties of war, but it still didn’t make him fell any less angry. He cranked the communicator for a full two minutes then sat on the pier. Fatigue crept up on him and he dozed again, only waking when the shrill call of a steam whistle penetrated his slumber. He sat up then gathered his things asthe stream car pulled up to the pier. Sitting in the driver seat was Hans Clements, the overseer for his secondary laboratory. The young man frowned as Dolph limped to the steam car then climbed in.
“You’re early,” said.
“That can’t be helped,” Dolph replied. “Our Bavarian laboratory was compromised.”
Fear pervaded the young Swiss chemist’s face. “Prussians?”
Dolph shook his head. “No. It seems the Africans are not happy we have claimed their books. They sent someone to retrieve them, and he is better than I would have imagined.”
Hansel seemed to relax. “You are here now. I always thought the Bavarian facility was too out in the open. We will have no such problems here.”
“Still, I think we should release the cats just in case,” Dolph said. “I wouldn’t underestimate this man. I have done so to out detriment.”
Hansel shrugged. “I see you have another book.”
Dolph smiled. “Yes. The African is good, but not that good.”
Both men laughed.
“Let’s be on our way,” Dolph said. “It’s time we found out what secrets this book holds.”
“Yes indeed!” Hansel answered.
Hansel cranked the engine then climbed back into the driver’s seat. They sped off into the Alps, a triumphant look on Dolph’s face.