When the Hammer Falls

Cal led Kirsten down the hall, hoping anyone they passed wouldn't find it strange to see a half-dressed teenager wrapped in an SS officer's coat. And he was right, as a German guard came around the corner, nodded at Cal, and walked past her without blinking an eye.

But they hadn't gone more than three steps when he realized he knew that face.

"Hammer?" the sergeant said.

Cal shoved Kirsten through the doorway and dove after her just as a stream of bullets from the sergeant's MP40 submachine gun traced a line of death above their heads.

Cal leaned around the doorway and fired off two shots from his machine pistol as another burst from the MP40 tore chunks of wood from the door jamb. "Sarge," he yelled, "I thought we were pals?"

"You will call me Feldwebel, not 'sergeant'," he cried, "and you are a spy!"

Cal knew if they stayed long enough in the room they'd be trapped. He signaled for Kirsten, who was crouching beside a filing cabinet, to wait there.

He ran and dove into the hallway opposite the door as a hail of bullets tore through the wall above him.

"Hammer! Come out with your hands up or I will kill the girl! Hammer?"

Cal listened as his footsteps came closer, and then stepped toward the hallway and ducked back as the sergeant's submachine gun traced an outline on the far wall. And then he heard what he'd been waiting for -- the telltale click of an empty magazine being disengaged.

Cal stepped around the corner just as the sergeant was slapping a new magazine into place. Before he could pull the operating handle back into position, Cal squeezed the trigger on his pistol once and the sergeant slumped lifelessly to the ground, a bullet through his heart.

Cal grabbed the submachine gun and called for Kirsten. As they ran out the front door to the staff car, he heard guards running toward the building from the nearby barracks.

There was no time for introductions as Cal shoved Kirsten into the backseat with Maxine and Astrid. They ducked down as Cal hopped behind the wheel and gunned the car toward the sentry post with the MP40 beside him on the front seat. He slowed down when he neared the gate and saw a guard approaching the car.

Cal leaned out the window. "Hurry, they're in Kepler's office!"

The guard's eyes narrowed when he heard the driver's poor German. He raised his MP40 into the firing position as he cautiously approached, while Cal's hand subtly slid toward the submachine gun on the passenger seat. The guard glanced into the back seat and his eyes went wide in alarm as a shot rang out, and he collapsed dead.

Maxine looked at Cal in the rearview mirror, the Schmeisser machine pistol in her hand still smoking. "Drive," she said.

A siren wailed from the Lebensborn and echoed through the night as they swerved around the guard post and raced toward the Swedish border. Cal kept checking for signs of pursuit, but none appeared. Maxine told him to slow down when they were half a mile from the border.

"We'll never make it past the checkpoint," she said. "Drive the car off the road and into the woods, we'll have to go the rest of the way on foot."

Maxine led the three of them through the forest toward the border; the only sound in the darkness was the crunch of the dead, frozen leaves beneath their feet.

After only a few minutes, Maxine motioned for them to stop. "Do you hear that?"

As they listened, they heard the rumble of a troop transport in the distance. They watched as the truck rolled past with two SS staff cars following close behind. Once the vehicles had disappeared into the dark, Maxine signaled for them to keep moving.

They hadn't gone far when they heard the vehicles returning, their headlights crawling along the dark road.

"They know we never crossed the border," said Maxine. "It won't be long until they find the car.'

"How long until the rendezvous?" said Cal.

"Not long...I just pray that they didn't bring the dogs."

The four of them hurried through the woods, and a short while later they discovered an abandoned farm, with an old barn silhouetted against the moonlit field.

"This is it," said Maxine, "we are across the border and in Sweden now. The plane should be overhead soon, when we hear it I'll light the signal fire."

"Sweden?" said Kirsten. "They're neutral, so the Germans won't cross the border, right?"

"Have borders ever stopped the Nazis?" said Cal.

Kirsten shivered and hugged herself against him for warmth. "It's so cold out here. Can we go in the barn until the plane arrives?"

Five minutes later, two Wehrmacht soldiers crept stealthily from the woods. One of the soldiers adjusted his steel helmet as he signaled to the other to flank the barn. He crouched with his MP40 at the ready as he entered the shadow-filled structure.

Cal and the women lay on the cold ground on the edge of the field watching the building while the soldiers searched inside. "See?" whispered Cal, as Kirsten shivered beside him. "That's why we're not hiding in the barn."

"They must not have dogs or there would be a lot more than two soldiers after us," said Maxine. "The patrol must have split up to search the woods."

As they watched, the soldiers came out of the barn and continued off into the darkness and the woods beyond the field.

"They're gone," pleaded Kirsten, as the cold wind bit into her flesh. "Can we wait in the barn now?"

Cal knew the three girls were freezing, and his teeth chattered as he shivered on the frozen earth. "Let me check first, don't move until I get back."

Cal crept into the barn and waited just inside the door as his eyes adjusted to the dark. He took a single step forward, and then heard a scrape from his left. He spun with his machine gun at the ready, as a snort came from the shadows.

In the last stall, an old horse watched him warily.

"Hey, boy," he whispered, as he brushed his hand up the bridge of the big roan's nose. "Got one just like you on my farm." Cal stroked and scratched the plow horse's neck and back, feeling his shaggy winter coat, and was flooded with memories of home. "I've gotta go, but you make sure you stay safe -- watch out for Nazis."

The horse whinnied in agreement.

Cal saw a ladder leading toward the hayloft and slung his MP 40 over his shoulder as he climbed up to check it out. He had just pushed his head through the opening when a cold steel muzzle pressed against his temple.

"Keep coming up," a voice whispered. "Touch your trigger and you will be dead."

Cal couldn't believe he'd been so careless! After he'd come so far, only to be captured minutes from finally escaping. He climbed up to the hayloft and, as instructed, laid his submachine gun on the ground and stepped over it, walking forward with his hands in the air.

"Turn around," the voice said, and as he did he looked into the cold, blue eyes of the She-Wolf.

She kicked the MP40 behind her as she kept her machine pistol trained on Cal. Her aim was rock-steady; she didn't know the meaning of fear.

"What have you done with her? Where is the pregnant woman you kidnapped?"

"I didn't kidnap her, I'm with her sister and we're rescuing her."

"You are endangering her and her child, I will not allow you to do that."

"I'm not, I'm rescuing her!"

"I don't believe you. Why would you risk your life to save this girl, who carries the child of your enemy?"

Cal reached toward his jacket but froze when she aimed the gun at his face. "Can I show you something?" He slowly unbuttoned his stolen SS uniform to reveal he was still wearing the shirt he'd worn when he escaped the stalag underneath. The She-Wolf kept her pistol on him as he tore the stitches of the shirt and pulled a small scrap of paper out that had been sewn into and hidden in the lining. He'd carried it through the war, through his internment and through his escape; he called it his lucky charm.

Cal cautiously held it up toward the She-Wolf -- it was a black and white photo of a little girl.

"That's my kid, her name's Janie. I'd never let anyone take her away from me. And I ain't gonna let anyone take Astrid's kid either."

The She-Wolf lowered her pistol an inch or two, trying to see the faded photo better. A beam of moonlight sliced through a broken board in the ceiling of the barn, and Cal stepped into it as he held out the photo for her to take. As soon as she reached for it, he launched himself into her.

The pistol clattered noisily into the shadows as Cal pinned her to the hay-strewn floor.

"You tricked me!" she cried.

"Yeah," he said. "You didn't leave me much choice, She-Wolf."

She stopped struggling and tears filled her eyes. "Don't call me that," she whispered.

Cal tightened his grip on her wrists and pinned her hips to the floor with his own in case this was a trick.

"My name is Ilsa, I hate it when they call me the She-Wolf!

"You think I steal babies from these women, but I don't -- I send them where they will be safe from harm. I was a nurse when I first came to the Lebensborn, but I met a soldier and ended up having his child. They tried to send me back, told me to take my baby to safety. But I thought I was being a good German, and stayed where the Fuhrer needed me.

"There was a bombing raid...and my son was killed; I cannot watch another child die. These Norwegian girls, they will never be allowed to move to the Fatherland and the SS will never let them keep their babies. So I do everything in my power to send the children to live with their German grandparents. Otherwise, they'll end up in an SS orphanage. And I keep all the records, so that after this madness is over -- if they survive -- the children may have a chance to be reunited with their parents again.

"But the SS troopers and officers who visit the Lebensborn...they are not like you. You would risk your freedom, your life, to help this girl? I do not think they would risk anything, for the sake of an unborn child who wasn't their own."

Ilsa surprised Cal by suddenly lifting her head and pressing her lips against his. He pulled back in shock, and saw the heartbreak in her eyes. And the tears for the child she'd lost.

She shifted her weight beneath him and felt his hardness pressing between her legs. Ilsa gasped as he pressed his mouth against hers and their tongues locked together. As he kissed her hard, she reached for his pants and quickly undid his belt.

Cal unbuttoned her gray jacket and pushed her white blouse up, exposing her large, pale breasts. He leaned down to suck her erect pink nipples as she tugged his cock out and stroked it, moaning as his tongue teased her breast.

He knew they didn't have a lot of time, so he moved between her legs and pushed her skirt up as she pulled her underwear down.

Ilsa's eyes were on his stiff cock as he guided it toward her tufted blonde bush. She sighed as he parted her swollen pussy lips and pushed his thick prick into her opening.

"Ja, ja," she moaned, as he pumped her pussy. She grabbed his ass with her hands and arched her back, encouraging him to fuck her even deeper. She writhed beneath him and her long, blonde hair fell loose as he slammed his big pole in and out of her sopping hole.

Cal watched her face as he fucked her. She was in a state of bliss with her eyes closed and her mouth open, moaning as she squeezed her breasts together and tweaked her nipples.

Suddenly, he stopped and she opened her eyes in alarm. "What is it?"

Cal put a finger to his lips, and the two of them held their breath as they listened.

Finally, Ilsa heard a faint drone in the distance. "An airplane!"

"Not just any plane -- that's the sweet sound of a DH.98 Mosquito, and my ticket home!"

She grabbed Cal around the neck and pulled him close, their mouths locked together as he renewed his assault on her pussy. He knew it was almost over. He broke the kiss and raised himself up on his arms, his hips slapping against her pale thighs as he pounded in and out of her. He groaned as he fired a load into her, and she pulled him close to kiss him one last time.

"I hate to run," he said, as he jumped up and got dressed, "but I've got a plane to catch!"

Ilsa pulled her blouse closed, cum dripping out of her pussy, as she watched Cal disappear down the ladder. Before he left, she heard him downstairs saying goodbye to the horse.

Maxine was standing and watching as Cal came running from the barn. "What took so long?" she asked. "We were worried that something had happened to you."

"I'll explain later, the plane's coming!"

"I know," she said, "I can hear it. I need to light the signal fire!"

As Maxine ran toward the field, Cal looked back at the barn just as Ilsa disappeared, with one last look at him, into the shadows of the woods.

Suddenly, a shot rang out from the far side of the field and Astrid screamed as Maxine pitched forward.

Cal crouched and whispered, "Wait here and keep your heads down!" In his excitement over the plane, he'd forgotten his submachine gun in the hayloft. On the far side of the field he saw the two German soldiers returning. It was one of them that had shot at Maxine from the woods.

Cal ducked down and ran around the scrub at the far end of the field. A cloud had drifted across the moon, but he could tell that Maxine was no longer where he'd seen her fall. The two soldiers crept along the edge of the woods, watching the field for any sign of her.

Cal closed in on them, trying to move quietly through the trees. But a dry leaf crunched beneath his foot and he quickly hid behind a birch tree. He listened as the soldiers moved toward him, seeking the source of the sound.

One walked past the tree and Cal grabbed his rifle, wrenching it out of his hands. The young soldier went to lunge at him but Cal drove the rifle butt into his ribs, sending him to the ground.

A rifle roared from his left, and Cal quickly spun and shot the second soldier dead as the first soldier staggered to his feet, holding his ribs. When he saw his fallen comrade, he drew his dagger and ran toward Cal, who raised his rifle and pulled the trigger. He swore when it jammed, and swung but missed the soldier as he tackled him to the forest floor. Cal held the soldier's knife arm in a grip of steel, but he could feel his strength weakening as the blade slowly moved closer. He glanced to his left and saw Maxine lighting the beacon in the field, and listened, as the roar of the plane's engines grew louder.

Maxine hadn't known whether she should help Cal or light the beacon, but she knew if the plane missed the rendezvous they'd all be dead. Now that the fire was lit, she ran toward the woods with her pistol drawn, and saw two shadows locked in a life and death struggle in the trees. As she reached the edge of the field, she saw one of the shadows slowly stand.

Cal walked toward her through the pale, silver trees and dropped the blood-red knife on the dried yellow birch leaves.

He hurried with her back to where Astrid and Kirsten waited, and the four of them watched as the small, two-engine plane taxied to a stop on the hard grass field.

The navigator climbed out of the plane and saluted Cal as he got near. "It's an honor to meet you Flight Lieutenant Hammer. Now, let's get you home safe and sound!"

Cal grinned as he looked at the plane. "I've never seen a prettier Mossie in my life," he shouted, trying to be heard over the engines. "I hope she's got room for three more!"

A shocked look crossed the navigator's face when he realized Cal expected him to take the women as well. "I was told we were taking one, even if I wanted to take you all we couldn't. The four of you might be able to squish in, but there are only three extra oxygen masks. We have to climb to nearly 10,000 feet to avoid Luftwaffe patrols. You wouldn't survive at that altitude without oxygen."

"I will stay behind," said Maxine, "please take Astrid, as you promised."

"You're all getting on the plane," said Cal. "I'm staying behind."

"I can't allow that, sir," the navigator said. "My orders are to bring you home."

"Even if I went up on that plane, I wouldn't make it down." Cal gingerly pulled open his jacket, and the women gasped as they saw his blood-soaked shirt.

"Oh my god!" Maxine cried. "The shot I heard in the woods..."

Cal pressed his hand against his abdomen. "I'm done for...get these women out of here, I don't want my escape to have been for nothing."

The navigator gave Cal a sympathetic look. "Yes, sir!" he said, and gave him one final salute.

Maxine and Astrid both hugged him, tears streaking their faces, until the navigator pulled them away and loaded them into the Mosquito.

Kirsten pulled him close and kissed him softly on the lips. "I hope I am pregnant," she whispered, "so I can tell our child what a hero their father was."

Cal brushed a tear from her cheek and handed her to the navigator, who loaded her into the modified bomb bay. He climbed back into the cockpit, and Cal returned the pilot's salute as they roared down the field and disappeared into the night sky.

As the engines faded into the distance, he heard shouting from the woods behind him. The rest of the German patrol had heard the plane and spotted him. He ran to his right, past the end of the field and into the birches as rifle shots ricocheted through the branches.

He heard the barking of dogs in the distance; they must have gone back to the barracks to get them to assist the search. Cal knew he had no chance, but he ran; it was all he knew how to do.

He was stumbling by the time he reached the road. The soldiers were closing in on all sides, like the walls of a tunnel. Adrenalin coursed through his body, and he thought he was going to be sick. He held his hand up to hide his eyes as a car came around the bend of the road and froze him in its headlights.

The door opened and he heard a familiar voice.

"Don't try to run, you'll never be able to escape," said Ilsa, as she stepped out of the staff car with her pistol drawn.

The barking of the dogs was getting nearer, and as Cal looked back he could see flashlight beams coming through the woods.

As she walked toward him, she looked up as a plane flew overhead toward the west.

"Is that them? Are they safe?" she asked.

Cal nodded, still hunched as he tried to catch his breath.

Ilsa lowered her pistol when she got closer and saw the blood staining his shirt. "Mein Gott! You are shot!"

"Naw, I'm fine." Cal lifted his shirt -- he was unwounded. "The blood is from one of your guys who tried to get me with his pigsticker...he lost."

"But if you are not wounded...why are you not on the plane?"

"Wasn't enough room," he said. "And I wasn't gonna leave one of the girls behind."

Ilsa holstered her gun and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the car.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Like you said, I am the She-Wolf, and a she-wolf protects her mate." She opened the trunk and helped him climb in.

The car roared off toward the Swedish border, and Cal heard the barking of the dogs fading into the distance. As he bounced in the pitch-black trunk, he fumbled in his pocket to make sure it was still there. Once he found it, he held his lucky charm close and, though it was too dark to see her face, he kissed the faded photo of his daughter, knowing he'd see her again soon.