Monday, September 19, 2011

013: Underworld

Silence broken after the rains come.  The storm sewers fill with clean water and the sounds of surf fill the catacombs.  He remebers the Baltic shore in the warm summer.  Waves curling in.  The water would be cold, he knew, but not the land and sun.  

Too soon, the water flow trails down and takes the summer sun with it.  He slings the crossbow and takes the broom.  He'll start near the sewer today.  The whisk of his broom a counterpoint to the murmur of the water.  She'll like that.

Leo first, then me, Doc and Alphabit.  Leo'd got that short AK readied.  He'll drop to a knee to give me a firelane for the M60 if we contact anything.  Doc and Alpha are packing M16s.  They're to keep checking our trail.  We all have IR with clean emitters and lenses.  No lights.  Last instructions, then we move down as quiet as we can.

The tunnel leads down to a sewer main.  Judging from the size and water level, it was a storm sewer.  We spread out a bit along the walkway, searching the far side.  Leo spots it first.  Across the main from us brickwork spills down onto the matching walkway.  There's a greater darkness behind.

Alphabit claims to be our best swimmer.  We rope him just in case he isn't and down into the water he goes.

"Only waist deep.  Bottom's slick and there's a bit of an undertow."  He has some trouble getting out at the far end, nearly going under once, but recovers quickly and ties the line off.

The broom and this floor are old friends.  Swish, swish, listen.  She needs a clean house.  Swish, swish, listen.  For the child.  Swish, swish, listen.  He's the only one allowed out anymore.  His men must stand their post.  Keeping them safe, even the new ones.  

Occasionally during the work he reaches out, touches one of the brothers.  Silently they assure him that noone has passed.  

So the day passes.  Silent work and satisfaction.  They are safe and alone.  Swish, swish, "...Bit of an undertow!"

We take a loop of rope through our webbing.  One at a time, we secure it to the safetly line, and cross.  Leo pokes his head into the wall breach.  "They're all dead in there."  We swap spots.  The walls are lined with niches.  In every niche a skull the rest of the bones piled behind.

"Just what we wanted, Leonid.  These'll lead under the shrine and"

Alphabit yelps, drops to his side and lets out a rapid scream of Gaelic curses.  I can see a shaft sticking out from his side.  Leo shifts to cover right, I cover left.  Doc crouches by Alphabit.

"Leo, you see anything?"

"See shit."

"It came from your side, you can't see anything."

"No, fucker pop-up pop-down."  Silence then, "How you know was this side."

I keep a steady scan as I answer.  "Alphabit's back was to us, arrows in his right side.  QED."  I interrupt his followup.  "cuz that's how I'd run the ambush."

Amerski.  He lets out a low moan.  While he'd recruited the two, another had gotten away, and now he'd brought back more.  He moves quick int he dark, back and over to cover the breach.  The old IR goggles slip over his eyes.  The emitter bulb is long dead, but he can see the flicker of their's as they move around.  Sight in and wait for the light to shine bright.

Nothing has come at us from the left or the right.  Might only be one man or someone taking a shot and running back for reinforcements.  Well, they know we're here.  I work the words around in my head.  Polish is not my best language.

"Hello!  We come to talk!"  No answer.  "I looking to Fabian Filipowitcz!  Brother Julian sent me!"  Still silence.

Lying bitch.  Lying, lying, lying.  Almost he shouts back his defience.  Julian would never turn his coat and work with the Americans!  They'd followed the bastard Deutch into this war.  His brother, he must be dead.  Yes that was it.  Dead.  They'd used his personal papers to know he was with the 6th, here at the Shrine.  They were here for her.

"Don, it barely broke your skin."  Doc shows him about an eighth of an inch of bloodstained quarrel.  "Damn thing was tangled in your vest and gear."  Alphabit ducks his head sheepishly.

"Please, we want to talk!"  Echoes.

"Leo, you think anybody is actually listening?"  He shrugs.  The sniper probably ran away to get help.  I risk a peek though the breach.

There she is.  He's too eager and jerks at the trigger.  Her head snaps back and away.

I hold the helmet in my hands.  The bolt missed my head.  The damn thing is caught between the helmet and nylon webbing.  An inch to the right and it would have been my eye.  Ok, probably just the IR system.  The thought doesn't make me feel any better.

Leo, laconicly, "They no want to talk."

No comments:

Post a Comment