5th Column Comics: The Indigo Codex #5 (of 8)
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San Vincenzo, The Island of Stromboli
The E-Boat docked at the harbour of San Vincenzo, the small port town lit up by the spectacular flashes of volcanic ash Stromboli threw in the air. Leaving the boat first, Karl climbed onto the dock, and was greeted by the harbour master, an incredibly skinny balding man wearing the jet black uniform of one of the port militia, his hands clenched around a Carcano Bolt Action Rifle.
“You Germans know better than to disturb Senigore Ruston without cause.” The harbour-master wheezed in heavily accented English. “Unless you have a good cause leave before he knows you were here.”
“We have been ordered by the Fuhrer and the Duce themselves to inspect Herr Ruston’s progress.” Karl answered, in the most bored voice he could muster. “Now arrange us transport to the main compound before I lose my patience.”
“Ci, Ci,” the Harbour Master wheezed, as he scuttled off down the dock as Williams and Victoria climbed out of the E-Boat, followed by Genaro.
“They still haven’t radioed security that we’re coming.” Williams stated, as the sound of an engine roared, and a pair of headlights lit up the dock to reveal a battered Opal Blitz lorry driving slowly towards them, flanked by two members of the port militia, both armed with submachine guns. Taking a step forward Karl shook his head, before gesturing for the driver to hurry up, the old man behind the wheel replying by putting his foot down, although the lorry barely increased in speed.
“This is most unsatisfactory.” Karl muttered, as Victoria quickly removed a pen and pad and made a note of it. “Herr Ruston will be most unpleased by this reception.”
“It…it is just, we didn’t expect any inspection team to come here.” The harbour master wheezed, as the group of agents climbed into the lorry, with Williams brutally pushing the old man out from the driver’s seat. “Save for the shipments of labourers no one ever comes here.”
“We have no time for your excuses.” Genaro announced in Italian, “You are a disgrace to your country and the glorious Duce. I will make sure that the head of the Milizia Volontaria per la Sicurezza Nazionale hears about your poor attitude.” He added, as one of the militia-men climbed in the Opal Blitz to act as a navigator, before the truck reversed along the harbour and towards the road. The drive only lasted a few minutes, before the truck came to a stop at a checkpoint spread across the road, several SS officers standing behind the barrier, all of them clutching automatic weapons.
“Get out of the vehicle!!” One of the officers yelled, as two of his men walked over to the doors and pulled them open. Slowly and deliberately Karl and the others got out.
“We are here to inspect Herr Ruston’s progress.” Karl stated, as the phone in the checkpoint rang piercing the growing tension, until one of the SS officers rushed inside and picked up the receiver. “The orders come from both the Fuhrer and the Duce themselves.”
“We need to see papers,” the commander of the SS team stated, “There has been problems in the area around Pizzo with Italian Partisans.”
“Of course.” Karl stated, as he reached slowly into his pockets, before the same officer who answered the phone came running back and whispered something in the commander’s ear.
“Herr Rosenberg, it appears if Herr Ruston has ordered us to let you through, that he insisted that the Fuhrer send a team to see him and his moment of triumph. I apologise for any inconvenience me and my men have caused you.”
“You are forgiven, with the security risk you mentioned, I would have demanded to have seen your papers if I were guarding this checkpoint.” Karl announced, as he and his men returned to the Opal Blitz, and the garrison opened the barrier for them. Continuing on, the Opal Blitz came to a stop outside a cave mouth at the end of the road, the entrance fortified with barbed wire and a pair of MG34 machine guns, positioned to repel any attack that came from the road. Such defences were expected, what Karl hadn’t counted on was the red haired woman waiting for them, dressed a flower-print dress, her hands placed defiantly on her hips.
“My name is Rosemary Mulholland, Herr Ruston is expecting you.” The woman announced, her American accent surprising the undercover agents, as she led them into the cave. “He is most pleased that you came so promptly to inspect his discovery.” She added, as the smell of volcanic sulphur mixed with another scent, one that was like half cooked meat that had started to rot. Walking along the main corridor, Victoria stopped and watched as a group of men and women were executed, their bodies hitting the floor to join the carpet of corpses already there.
“Who are these people?” Victoria asked, as the firing squad glowered at the people walking past.
“Italian Jews diverted from the re-education camps to serve as labour and test subjects for Herr Ruston’s ‘Blauer Rauch’. It is most incredible, while it is clearly a kind of poison gas, it acts more like a disease, although we have yet to see if it can be spread like other germs. Ruston believes it could be a vital weapon to cause the surrender of Great Britain with limited bloodshed.” Mulholland explained, as she gave a nod to a pair of soldiers guarding the entry to a massive chamber
“And is that something you agree with, your accent, it is American am I correct?” Williams asked, as the group arrived in the central chamber where a man lay slumped against a nine foot tall casket lined with pipes, all of them glowing blue in the half light, his body convulsing in concert with the fluid in the casket.
“Herr Ruston?” Mullholland asked, as the man pulled himself to his feet, his face lined with black pustules, his flesh a sickly white save for the black veins criss-crossing under his skin.
“Ah so my enemies arrive at last.” Ruston wheezed, as he shot the group of undercover agents a smile, black blood dripping off his broken teeth. “You assume treachery is how I know of your coming, but that is not the case.” He groaned, as a unit of SS soldiers appeared behind the undercover agents, their weapons drawn. “I have become superior, I know everything about who you are, and what you will become.”
“Superior to what, you look like your half dead.” Williams stated, as Mulholland moved away from the group of undercover agents.
“You doubt my claims that is good, very good.” Ruston wheezed as he placed a hand on the Sarcophagus. "The true Aryan race built this Sarcophagus thousands of years ago, its construction alone shows their superiority, the right they have to rule. I will show you the face of the true master race and you will return to England and tell them what you have seen today!!” Ruston hissed, as an SS soldier came running in.
“Herr Ruston we require more men, there is a problem with the ‘Kranke-Mensch’, they are attacking the firing squads like animals.” The soldier gasped, as he worriedly looked at the bite mark on his arm.
“You three!!” Ruston snarled, as he gestured to the soldiers closest to the allied prisoners. “You stay, the rest of you prove your worthiness by killing the animals!!” He snapped, his voice regaining some power despite his frailness. Quickly the guards dispersed, and Ruston turned back to the Sarcophagus, his hand trembling as he twisted the first dial, the mechanism popping out, the bladed edge spinning slightly. Continuing his task, Ruston twisted the second, third and fourth dials, each one emerging, the blades spinning until they all stopped, thing blue lights lancing from one to the other. “This is it, behold the face of the ancient Aryan, the true masters of the world!!” He bellowed, as the laser beams merged to form a field, the surface of the Sarcophagus peeling back like flower petals to reveal…nothing.
“We are beholding alright.” Karl murmured, as he looked to Williams, and then to Genaro, before he rocked backwards slamming the SS office. Stunned the SS officer dropped his weapon, as Karl grabbed him by the arms and threw him over his shoulder, just as his allies sprang into action. Stunned the remaining pair of guards, went for their MP38s, only to find their targets ready to meet them. “And we aren’t impressed!!” Karl finished, as Williams slammed the butt of his guards MP38 into his face so hard, his nose cracked. On the other side of him Genaro had ripped his target’s weapon away, and stolen his dagger, the blade stabbed into the German soldier’s throat.
“Gun, he’s got a gun!!” Victoria yelled, as she ran towards Ruston as he drew his Lugar. Reaching the insane German commandant, she felt Ruston’s fist slam into her, knocking her into the Sarcophagus, the lid reforming and trapping her inside.
“Nein that is not meant to happen!!” Ruston yelled, as he spun round and levelled his pistol at Karl, only to see his foe rip the dagger out of the dead German soldier’s throat and hurl it at him, the blade ripping into his heart. Seconds later Ruston’s dead body hit the floor with a thud, black blood oozing from his wound.
“Auf Wiedersehen Herr Ruston.” Karl stated coldly, as he and the others advanced on Mullholland, her eyes darting to the dropped Luger, and then back to the Allied agents. “If you have any sense you’ll forget about that gun.” Karl told her, as Genaro bent down and retrieved the weapon. “Now I only have two questions. What is that thing,” He stated, his finger pointing to the Sarcophagus, “and how do we get Victoria out of there?”
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