A certain heaviness crowded aside the elation that filled Peric's heart; the perfidy of Stopa and the ex-Avengers weighed down his soul with sorrow. It would be less personally painful for him to turn the matter over to the army; certainly, the temptation was there. But the Party must discipline its own.
"I must decline the offer," Feric said sadly. "These men have betrayed the Swastika. We owe it to ourselves and to Heldon to purge our own ranks of any contaminating elements."
"I understand the courage it takes to make such a decision," Forman said. "Yes, a man must maintain his own iron discipline within his command."
In the cold bleak hours before dawn, Feric himself led an SS convoy through the silent empty streets of Heldhime and out into the slumbering countryside toward the Knights' barracks. Honor demanded no less than this, for 132
Stopa had sworn loyalty to Heldon and to Feric's own person. Feric felt the same social obligation as the owner of a dog gone rabid: it was his duty to put the creature out of its torment by his own hand.
For this mission, Feric had armed a mere three hundred SS men with submachine guns and truncheons and loaded them into trucks. Three hundred crack elite SS troops operating in quiet and stealth could perform a surgical excision, whereas a massed attack would precipitate a bloody battle in which many salvageable Knights would be lost.
Therefore, when the truck convoy was yet two miles from the Knight encampment, Feric ordered a halt, had the men disembark, and led them across the dewy fields on foot, with Waning and Remler close by his side. There was not a murmur of complaint from even a single one of these fine young heroes; only Waning left his seat for his feet with something less than total enthusiasm. It lifted some of the weight from Feric's soul to see the proud but decidedly out-of-shape High Commander puffing and blowing to keep pace with his own powerful strides, clearly discomforted by the strenuous pace, but never dreaming of mentioning it.
Feric had located the Knights' compound atop a small knoll overlooking the road to Heldhime so that it would
'be as difficult to attack by surprise as possible. Now be himself was suffering the keen edge of his own military acumen. He formed his men up into attack squads in a deeply shadowed hollow at the base of the knoll and pondered the situation. Atop the knoll, the wooden barracks were surrounded by an electrified fence; there was a high tower at each comer of the compound mounting a searchlight and a machine gun, and guards patrolled the perimeter at very short intervals. The gate was also electrified and 'guarded by machine gunners. Feric knew all too well how impregnable such a fortification was, since he had designed it himself. There was nothing to do but take the place through sheer force of will.
"Very well, Remler," he said to the SS Commandant, who stood eagerly at his side, "you will keep the men here while Waning and I go up to the gate and order the fellows to open it. Once this is accomplished, you will lead the men inside. Shooting must be prevented at all costs until we reach the officers' quarters."
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"But my Commander, I want to be in the forefront of the battle! Let me come with you!"
Peric was deeply moved by Remler's fanaticism and certainly understood how he felt, but Remler's presence certainly wouldn't make things easier when it came to confronting the guards. "I'm sorry, Remler," he said, "but if you show your face, the guards are bound to know something's up."
In response, Remler clicked his heels together and gave a silent Party salute. Peric favored him with a small smile, returned the salute, and led Waning up out of the shadows and onto the roadway which led to the main gate.
They had not come more than halfway up the knoll when they were pinned in a circle Of light; at least Stopa's perfidy had not caused the efficiency of the garrison to deteriorate to zero. As the spotlight illumined their way to the gate, Feric wrapped himself deeply in his scarlet swastika cape, hunched himself over somewhat, and fell in behind the unmistakable girth of Waffing, who stalked grandly toward the nervous gate guards, playing it to the hilt.
Feric hung back in the shadows as Waffing reached the gate and bellowed at the machine gunners behind it.
"Open the gate at once!"
"Commandant Stopa has ordered us to admit no one tonight," one of the gunners said uneasily, fully cognizant of the identity of the officer he faced.
"Open the gate or I'll have you shot for insubordination, you swine!" Waffing replied. "I'm High Commander Waffing and my orders supercede Stopa's."
"We've been given strict orders to admit no one on pain of death," the other gunner stammered. "Would you ask us to violate a direct order by a superior?"
