He decided to at least give the motor pool exit a try. Hugo reached into his pocket and again pulled out the complex map. He needed to figure out where he was on the hangar deck and where the motor pool was, right or left from the elevator. According to the map, he needed to go right when he exited the elevator. The motor pool should be about twenty-five to thirty yards away. He replaced the map and took a few deep breaths. With all that smoke out there, these breaths may be his last smokeless breaths.
He stepped up to the external door and used his knife, working it into the space between the doors. He pulled the doors open enough to get his hands in and opened the doors. He was driven back immediately. A searing wall of heat rushed in causing him to cover his face with one hand and step back to the left front corner of the elevator. Hugo slowly stepped back up to the open door. He surveyed the hangar deck. It looked like he was entering hell itself.
Fire was all around. The heat was almost unbearable as the aviation fuel burned viciously. Explosions were occurring out to his left and men were running in all directions trying to extinguish the fires and pulling wounded people to safety. But to his right there was no fire. What great luck, he thought. At least they would not be bothering with him with all of this mayhem going on.
With a quick leap Hugo was on the hangar deck and headed outside. The heat touched off another missile on one of the burning helicopters. The explosive fuel in the rocket motor tore the missile in half, throwing the warhead containing high explosives across the deck near Hugo. He watched the warhead skid across the deck away from him. As the warhead came to rest against a row of equipment lockers, there was a blinding flash as the warhead exploded, throwing shrapnel in every direction. Hugo winced as he saw two Germans sliced in two by hot steel pieces from the lockers. But immediately Hugo felt a searing pain in his side and hip. He had been hit!
Hugo fell against the wall wincing in pain. He looked down and saw that shrapnel had ripped through his pants in an upward angle and sliced a five-inch gash in his hip from his upper thigh to his waist. To his surprise there was very little bleeding. The shrapnel cleanly sliced his skin open but had not cut him deeply. The hot steel had cauterized the wound slightly.
Hugo decided right then and there the wound would not keep him from getting the hell out. He took out a bandage from its pouch, opened it and placed the pad over the wound. He tied the two tails of the bandage tightly around his waist. That taken care of, he turned to his right to survey the area.
People were still screaming and running around. Firefighters had moved in to fight the fire. Hugo scrambled down beside the outside wall away from the fires and mayhem. No one was paying attention to him. That was his lucky break. He stumbled the fifty yards to a large hangar door that was half closed. He stopped at the opening and took a quick look around the edge of the door. It was the motor pool!
Hugo slipped around the open door and again traveled to his right against the wall. His wounds hampered his movement but didn’t slow his determination. In the middle of the large motor pool several medical technicians were setting up a triage area for the burn victims and those injured by the shrapnel from the explosions. With their interest on the injured, no one saw Hugo slip down the wall and into a group of vehicles lined up facing a huge open triple-wide vehicle door leading to the jungle outside. Hugo smiled broadly. He found his escape route.
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
“Where the hell is Maas!” screamed Kaete Grimme, slamming her hand down on her desk. Her minions scurried about, many simply trying to get out of her way and her sight if possible. “Find that pig and bring him here!”
“Captain Maas is dead,” said Captain Boehm, standing in the door to the Führer’s office. “He was killed by the forces attacking us.” She braced for the harsh reaction she expected.
“He’s dead?” questioned Kaete at the top of her lungs. “Well, dammit, find me someone in charge. Who are you?”
Boehm snapped to attention. “Captain Anna Boehm, Mein Führer. I have taken Maas’ place for the time being.” Grimme glared at the young officer. She certainly did not look like she was in charge, Kaete thought to herself.
“I see. Tell me what is going on. Why are the alarms going off? Why am I the last to hear of this?”
“We have a massive fire in the hangar level. Casualties are mounting. As of a few minutes ago, we have thirty-eight killed and many more injured. I just learned of Maas’ death so I came here immediately to inform you of the situation.”
Grimme was seething. “Why is my hangar level on fire?” she asked through clenched teeth.
“We have intruders reported in the complex. That is how Captain Maas died. He was killed fighting the American intruders.” As soon as she said American intruders, Kaete Grimme’s face went blank.
“Americans? Here?”
“Yes, Mein Führer,” Boehm answered without showing any emotion. Grimme stepped away from her desk, staring at the floor. She was stunned. After a few seconds of contemplation she looked up at Boehm.
“Have these Americans been destroyed?” Grimme asked, staring directly at Boehm.
“We are in the process of killing each and every one as we speak,” answered Boehm, full well knowing they had no idea where the intruders were. “I will bring you their bodies before the day is out.”
“Good. I want them all dead,” replied Grimme with a sneer. Her facial expression changed in a second. “Wait. Where did these Americans come from? Why were they here?”
Captain Boehm swallowed hard. She knew that Grimme would not like the answer she was about to give. She also knew that around here the messenger was in as much danger as those actually responsible for the actions. She considered her answer carefully. “The Americans were evidently here to try to rescue the Americans we detained last week outside of the Fortress. Captain Maas was in the process of interrogating the detained group.” Grimme’s face became clouded. She walked around her desk and stood directly in front of Boehm.
“Verdammter Mist! I told Maas to kill them. He did not do that?” Grimme asked screaming. She was not happy.
“He did not kill them, Mein Führer,” Boehm answered.
“And why did he not kill them like I ordered?”
“I do not know. I believe he wanted to interrogate the Americans and find out why they were here,” answered Boehm, standing her ground.
Grimme thought for a second. “One of those Americans was a pretty young woman, right?”
“Yes, Mein Führer.”
“That son-of-a-bitch,” Grimme screamed, turning away from Boehm and walking over in front of her desk. “That bastard wanted the girl. That’s what happened. I knew I should have castrated that man. He let his sexual urges take him over again.” She looked up at Boehm. “I only regret that he is dead. Because if he wasn’t, I would kill him myself,” she said angrily slamming her fist into her other hand. “Where is his body?”
“It is in the sub-basement,” Boehm answered quietly.
“How did he die?” asked Grimme. Boehm was puzzled. She wondered why she wanted to know.
“He was killed with a knife at the hands of one of the Americans.”
“I hope the stupid bastard suffered,” Grimme screamed. “Bring his body here. I want to see it and I will feed it to the dogs.”
“Yes, Mein Führer,” answered Boehm. Grimme turned and looked directly at Boehm.