Bullets sprayed the train. A man on top of one wagon was hit in the leg and fell over the edge, another Nazi clambering along the side taking an explosion of splinters to his eyes from a near miss and losing his grip in shock. He was dragged under the wheels and vanished in a wet burst of red.
The other men on the roof dropped flat — but Zane’s magazine was now empty, and he had no replacement. The silence told the Nazis all they needed to know. Guns came up—
‘Down!’ Zane yelled. Nina dropped as more bullets ripped into the brake van. Planks cracked and split, showering them with broken wood. There was a sharp bang as a supporting beam gave way — and a whole section of the curved metal roof crashed down into the rear of the compartment, pieces of the van’s side scattering on to the hillside behind it.
The front half of the wagon remained intact, but was far from undamaged, more rounds striking home. Nina buried her head in her arms as a bullet hit the brake wheel’s column with a shrieking clang. Zane crawled across the floor as another plank blew apart behind him. Then the onslaught died down as the caboose and train passed each other, heading in opposite directions.
The Mossad agent risked a look through the ragged hole. ‘Harah.’ His attack had delayed the Nazis but not deterred them; the men on the roof were already getting back up. ‘They’re still going after him.’
Nina rose to see — but her own life took priority as the battered brake van rumbled towards the next hairpin. ‘Oh, crap!’ she gasped, grabbing the wheel.
Zane sprang up to help her. The brakes shrieked in protest again. This time, something was wrong: there was a new noise, a grating rasp accompanied by a harsh judder. ‘That doesn’t sound good!’
‘Let’s hope it works better than it sounds!’ Nina maintained her hold. The wagon slowed, but the noise and vibration only grew worse.
Another lurch as the van swept into the hairpin. This time, they had shed enough speed to get around without teetering on the very edge of disaster — but as they eased the wheel back open, a clamour of disintegrating metal gave notice that another set of brake shoes had failed. Catastrophe was still waiting in the wings.
Schneider peered nervously at the track ahead. ‘We’re going too fast! We’ll never make it around the loop.’
‘Somebody has to climb into the engine and slow us down,’ said Kroll, his gaze fixed upon Rasche.
His second-in-command was not pleased. ‘What the hell do I know about driving a train?’ He addressed the men guarding Banna. ‘You two! Do either of you know how it works?’
‘I once rode in the cab when I was a boy…’ one offered hesitantly.
‘That’s good enough. Get out there and stop this thing!’
The soldier gave his companion a worried look, then saluted and went to the door. He was about to open it when a thump came from the roof at the rear of the carriage.
Walther’s face crunched into a snarl. ‘It’s the Englander!’
Kroll glowered at the huge man. ‘What are you waiting for? Kill him!’
Eddie hunched down, feet wide apart for stability on the rocking coach. The smoke was thicker this close to the locomotive, cinders searing his exposed skin. He shielded his face, trying to come up with a plan to save Banna that didn’t involve simply swinging through a window and hoping for the best—
He flinched at a gunshot, fearing that the men in the carriage were firing through the roof again. But the crack had come from one side. The train was passing the ammunition truck. The trees around it were ablaze, the wooden wagon an inferno. Forget bullets; the risk now was from explosives. He turned his head to watch it go by, trying to judge when he would be out of danger…
A different threat came into sight — soldiers on the roof, coming after him.
He crouched as low as he could as he drew the gun. But he didn’t have enough bullets left to kill them all.
That didn’t stop him from trying.
The leading Nazi was hit in the shoulder, losing his balance. The crack of bone as he landed head first was audible even over the engine’s din. The other soldiers dropped to their bellies, bringing up their MP5s to shoot along the roof—
A huge explosion came from the hillside.
The ammo wagon blew apart in a massive fireball — disintegrating the trees. Unsupported, the truck’s blazing remains jolted loose and hurtled onwards down the hillside, the mangled front end of the chassis biting hard into the ground and sending the entire wreck flipping end over end at the train—
It hit the two rear wagons. Both were bowled off the line, almost dragging the truck ahead after them before the coupler snapped. The jolt threw Eddie’s pursuers from the roof and into the carnage below. Nazis were flung shrieking from the open doors and crushed under the wrecks as they rolled down the slope. The fiery remnants of the ammunition wagon bounded through the chaos, flames swallowing soldiers and exploding grenades ripping bodies into bloody pieces.
Eddie clung to the roof as the remainder of the train shuddered. The two destroyed wagons had contained half the Nazi troops — and all the other deaths meant that Kroll’s forces were now seriously depleted. But even with those losses, he still had another two truckloads of soldiers, plus however many were in the passenger carriage—
A slam from below. Eddie twisted, catching sight of a man’s head; someone had come out of a door and was climbing along the side of the coach towards the engine.
One fewer to deal with inside, then. He looked back to check that there were no Nazis coming after him, then rose and moved to get a clear shot at the man heading for the locomotive—
A hand clamped around his ankle like a bear trap.
Walther had leaned out of the coach to grab the Englishman, pulling hard on his leg from behind. Eddie tried to bring his gun to bear, but the hulking Nazi had already thrown him off balance. He fell, landing mere inches from the edge of the roof. The choice was between keeping hold of the gun and stopping himself from going over — he took the latter, the pistol skittering along the weather-scoured metal before clunking to a stop in the gutter.
The German tugged harder, trying to drag him over the side. Eddie kicked, catching Walther’s fingers. A satisfying roar of pain came from below. The hand withdrew. The Yorkshireman rolled away from the edge, the bronze fish’s tail digging into his back, and scrambled for his gun.
A hefty thud came from behind as Walther clambered on to the roof. Eddie lunged for the weapon — but the Nazi hurled himself on to him, his sheer weight pounding the breath from the Englishman. Before Eddie could recover, the SS man hauled him up and turned to sling him off the back of the coach on to the track below—
The train lurched violently as it clattered over the little bridge at the top of the loop.
Alarmed, Walther dropped his opponent and fell to his knees, gripping a protruding ventilator cover to steady himself. Then tension turned to triumph as he saw something an arm’s length away.
Eddie searched for the gun — only to see the Nazi snatch it up with his free hand. Murderous glee flashed in Walther’s eyes as he took aim—
The soldier reached the cab and pulled the brake lever.
The train staggered as the remaining wagons concertinaed against each other. It skidded along the track, wheels locked — then swung into the loop. Everyone inside was hurled sideways as it screeched around the tight descending turn.
Those above were no better off. Eddie slid helplessly across the roof—
His back scraped over another ventilator, the squat metal cone ripping through his leather jacket — and snagging on it. He jerked to a stop, both legs flailing over the side of the train.
Walther was forced to release the gun to hold the vent with both hands. It banged back into the gutter. He swore, then saw Eddie’s plight and dropped flat, gripping the roof’s edge to pull himself closer to the Yorkshireman as the train continued its squealing turn. ‘Pig!’ the huge Nazi spat. ‘You have spilled our water — so now I will spill your blood!’