Sufficiently rebuffed, the men became quiet and continued to move forward.
‘First people ever to try and break into a bloody Nazi concentration camp…’ Harris mumbled to himself.
The border of Polonezköy reared up out of the forest, ominous and apparently impenetrable. A tall electrified outer fence and an equally tall wall beyond. The Brits had pored over low-quality aerial photographs and best-guess schematics before leaving Pocklington Hall, trying to piece together the ground plans to this unspeakably horrific place. The boundary of the camp, still a distance beyond the trees, appeared featureless and unending from here, as if there was nothing beyond it, literally the end of the world.
Captain Hunter called over to Lieutenant Henshaw. ‘This is where we split. You’re on your own from here. See you at the rendezvous in about seven hours.’
Before Henshaw could reply, the captain and his men were gone. Henshaw gathered the rest of his crew around. ‘We’re going in from the rear of the camp. We need to dig under the electrified fence, then find the best spot to try and get over the wall.’
He had been wondering how operational the camp would still be. After all, the intelligence reports they’d heard back at base had indicated that very little, if any activity had been observed here. Lance Corporal Barton, a quiet, reflective man at the best of times, had barely spoken since they’d touched down in Poland. He too had been considering the condition of the camp. ‘So what do you reckon, lieutenant? Are they all dead in there? Is this going to be easier than we thought?’
‘Nothing’s easy in war, you know that.’
‘And dead doesn’t mean dead anymore, either,’ Wilkins added ominously.
‘Fact is, we don’t know what we’ll find until we’re inside. What we do know is that this is the place where the Nazis created and tested their serum, so there’s a strong possibility that many of the current occupants of Polonezköy might already have acceded to the undead condition. I’ll wager the place has been tightly locked down to prevent the germ from spreading.’
‘Remember what I said about the fire-break?’ Wilkins added. ‘We have to remember, the effects of the serum do not respect side, rank, or any other difference. It’s highly likely that if the infection has run wild in there, the entire populations of both prisoners and guards of the camp will be infected now.’
‘I’ve got to admit,’ Barton said, ‘despite what we heard in the briefing, I still expected searchlights and sirens and all the usual bells and whistles.’
‘The silence is somehow more concerning, isn’t it?’
‘So if they’re all dead—’ Sergeant Steele said.
‘Or undead,’ Jones muttered.
‘—then what about this scientist chap we’re here for?’
‘Yes, he may already be dead too,’ Henshaw admitted. ‘But we still need to find him. One way or another, we have to locate Egil Månsson.’
‘And if he’s one of them?’ Jones asked. ‘They said the best way to deal with them was to damage their brains. How’s this scientist gonna be any good to anyone if his brain don’t work?’
‘Well you seem to manage all right, Jones,’ Henshaw said, rapidly losing patience. ‘Right, we’re wasting time. Let’s move.’
A crackle of noise. Blue static flashes. Flames.
The men held their collective breath and watched the fence around Polonezköy intently. Something had just collided with the electrified wire-mesh and proved beyond doubt that, in spite of the ominous darkness everywhere, the power was still running. Henshaw used his binoculars to try and see what it was that had hit the fence. ‘What is it, sir?’ asked Harris. Henshaw didn’t answer, he just passed his field-glasses across.
Harris found it hard to comprehend what he was seeing. It was a Nazi guard, already almost completely consumed by flames, and he was gripping the fence tight, oblivious to the agonising pain he should have been feeling. Harris watched in disbelief as the soldier simply let go and walked away, managing to make it another twenty yards or so before the flames overtook him and he dropped to the ground, muscle and sinew burned away to nothing.
18
Jones and Steele knew exactly what to do. They emerged from the shadowed tree-line and ran towards the fence around the concentration camp, keeping low despite being quite certain that no one was watching. The barbed-wire topped mesh fence seemed to tower above them – far too high and dangerous to scale even if it hadn’t been electrified. They chose a spot which was easy to remember: just to the right of another enormous elm tree and, according to the lieutenant’s map, at a point near a part of the camp complex which was relatively infrequently accessed.
Both men took entrenching tools from their packs and began to dig, working at pace and managing to quickly excavate a decent amount of soil, no mean feat given that much of it was hard as concrete, rock-solid with permafrost. It wasn’t going to be easy to dig under the fence, but it appeared to be their only option tonight. The constant electric hum of the barrier was enough to ensure that both men constantly kept their wits about them.
Henshaw dispatched Harris to try and get a better appreciation of what was happening inside the camp. He slipped back into the trees and soon found an oak which appeared tall enough and strong enough and which was relatively easy to climb. The branches, although bare, would provide enough cover in the low light. He shimmied up the trunk and found himself a good spot.
Even in almost total darkness, Polonezköy camp was a terrifying sight. It had been built in the grounds of a castle which dated back to the sixteenth century, with the imposing gothic entrance of the castle itself acting as the single entry and exit point. Harris’ stomach churned with nerves, and he could only begin to imagine what the prisoners, already broken and resigned to their fate, must have felt when they arrived at the camp to be greeted with such an imposing façade.
The vast area enclosed by the border fence and the wall just beyond was difficult to make out from up here. He could just about make out the roofs of low huts and other buildings, grey against the gloom, and a couple of guard towers which appeared to be unmanned. There were occasional glowing lights in places, but nothing like the level of illumination he’d expected to see there. Harris was a tough soldier who’d faced more than his fair share of unspeakable horrors during his relatively short years of service, but there was something about Polonezköy this morning that unsettled him more than anything he’d come across before today. It seemed to have a brooding menace all of its own. He knew the camp was packed full of people. Whether they were alive or not was a different question (and he was pretty sure it was a question to which he already knew the answer). It was like they were waiting for the task force to try and break in. Like they were lurking in the shadows, ready to jump out. Thousands of them.
Harris held his position and kept a close watch until they were ready to make their move.
Jones and Steele worked hard and fast with their entrenching tools, moving with unspoken synchronicity as they took turns to dig in and shift more frozen soil, all the time taking care not to touch the electrified fence. The sergeant led by example, easily matching the younger man’s pace.
The smell of burnt flesh still hung heavy in the air from the thing that had made contact with the deadly barrier a short time earlier, a stark reminder of the dangers they faced. Henshaw, Wilkins and Barton watched from the near distance until the two men began to visibly flag. ‘Barton, we’ll take over for a stretch,’ Henshaw said.