Krause opened his mouth to say something else but stopped. He looked tired and out of gas. The long-time SS
“Keller.” He faced Larionov. “Is the general ready?”
Agent Keller locked eyes with the man. “He is.”
The corner of Larionov’s mouth turned upward. The Russian was a member of the security staff here. Most of Keller’s trusted allies within the facility were staffed in that department. He always figured that he was a man of action, so should his allies be. Larionov continued forward but was stopped.
“Make it quick, Colonel.”
Larionov nodded and silently approached Krause. He reached down to his belt and unsheathed his knife. This needed to be timed perfectly. Keller waited and watched. The Russian raised his knife and brought it around to the front of the general’s throat.
Keller swiftly drew his M1911 and shot the colonel twice in the back.
Krause froze.
Larionov fell.
Keller hurried forward. “You okay, General? That man just tried to kill you! You really need to watch your back better.”
Krause shook. He looked down at the man who had nearly slit his throat. He nodded, then swallowed. “Yes, well, that is why we have men like you around, is it not?”
Keller winked then holstered his pistol. “Exactly.” He tipped his chin to the U-boat. “Go ahead and board, General. I’ll take care of this traitor.”
“It seems that you already have.”
Keller gave the man a quick salute, then shoved the deceased Russian colonel off the floating dock and into the frigid water.
“Oh, Agent Keller?”
“Yes, General?”
“What about the next transport? When will they be along?”
Keller hesitated to answer but came up with one. “Soon. Very soon.”
Krause tried to say something else, but Keller didn’t let him.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s been all taken care of. You just get yourself inside and out of the cold, or you could end up like the colonel!”
Krause edged over to the side and looked into the water. He looked back up at Keller, eyes wide in fear.
“Oh, not me, General. If I wanted you dead, it would have already happened.” He looked past Krause and waved to one of the privates.
The young German rushed over. “Yes, sir?”
“Help General Krause on board,” Keller said. “Then, tell the captain to prep for dive.”
“Yes, sir!” the soldier motioned for Krause to come with him. “This way, General.”
Agent Keller watched Krause be led into the submersible. He turned and looked out over the enormous front entrance to the facility. He remembered the first time he had laid eyes on it.
He also remembered the reason he was here.
Keller had been sent into the Sixth Seal ranks as a spy to learn what they were producing here. The brass back home in the U.S. had helped finance the installation for over two decades and they wanted to know what, if anything, applied against the upcoming conflict with the Soviets.
What Keller had found shook him to his core.
“Sorry, Uncle Sam, but if it’s up to me, you’ll never get your hands on it.” He took a deep breath. “No one will.”
Keller spun and headed for the U-boat.
It was nearly eight o’clock at night, and the cool breeze from the Mediterranean Sea was euphoric. Zahra Kane’s eyes had shut at the onset of the latest gust. She had yet to reopen them. Everything was peaceful — perfect. She couldn’t imagine something ruining as beautiful a moment as this.
“Earth to Zahra…”
The voice calling her carried a heavy British accent — and not the elegant form. No matter what the voice’s owner said, the cadence was laced with a metric ton of sarcasm and usually innuendo. The voice was full of mischief, just like the woman it belonged to.
Zahra ignored her friend.
“Oi, Zahra. Wakey-wakey!”
Well, she tried.
Zahra sighed and opened her eyes. “Yeah, Cork?”
The woman sitting across from Zahra was as unique a creature as this planet had to offer. She came complete with a military buzz cut and possessed deep, chestnut skin. She was enormous in stature and rippled with muscle. Zahra joked that Cork’s nose piercing made her look like a bull. If the two women weren’t as close as they were, Cork would have kicked the shit out of Zahra for even thinking it.
Gwendolyn Milton was brash, tough as nails, and incredibly hard to get along with. And God forbid calling her anything but
