Impasse (The Red Gambit Series) (48 page)

Shortly afterwards, the surgeons removed the hand at the wrist, and Baines’ fighting days were over.

Across the front, Soviet forces had repositioned in response to the warnings, reducing their casualties from air strike and bombardment, trading ground for lives saved. As the US and German forces advanced, resistance stiffened
, and the experience of Dahlem was repeated in a score of small German villages from the Ruhr to the Ardennes.

Patton threw his men forward, pushing his commanders hard. Guderian, commanding the German pincer forces, understood that the situation was not as had been envisaged
, and requested Eisenhower to discontinue the attacks.

“
Spectrum Blue will continue as planned, Field Marshal. Make every effort to keep to the timetable.”

Eisenhower had said a number of other things, comments designed to soothe
and to cosset the angry German, who had succinctly responded, with a phrase that wasn’t readily interpreted into English, but that suggested that the timetable was already to hell in a handcart.

--- Earlier in the day ---

The plan was not without risk, but the benefits would be huge if it went well.

And
it started very well indeed.

Men and women
, soldiers who had lived on their wits for years, fell easily, as white-clad special troops invested the defensive position, killing quickly, killing efficiently and, above all, killing quietly.

Their victims were Slovenian partisans, who had
joined together in the new Yugoslav Army under Tito, forming the 31st Slovenian Division ‘Triglav’. Their victims stood no chance, and succumbed within minutes.

The second phase of the deception commenced on cue, vehicles and tanks sweeping down the Wurzenpass, spitting flame in all directions, engaging the Yugoslav main line.

Here and there, a soft-skinned vehicle flitted from cover to cover, depositing some of the dressing necessary to complete the NKVD plan to draw Yugoslavia in the new war.

The tanks, the half-tracks, the weapons
, and the uniforms, were all British Army, as were the corpses that were being spread about the battlefield.

Only the living men, firing the tank guns or using Bren guns to flay the Yugoslav defensive positions, were not British, although the casual observer would see only British uniforms and insignia.

The sixty-two ‘British’ soldiers, actually Soviet penal soldiers, were there for a single purpose; to die and die well, ensuring that their families would be favourably looked on by a grateful state.

The
defending soldiers started to fight back, calling down artillery, and even attracting a passing pair of venerable Yugoslavian crewed ME-109’s, previously removed from German control.

The attacking force started to take casualties
, and the senior NKVD officer commenced withdrawing his men, making sure that the two who had fallen were carried away by comrades, and that any wounded had their lives extinguished.

A nearby Sherman exploded, victim of a direct hit from a Soviet-made 76.2mm field gun, visibly melting the snow around it as the fire quickly grew in intensity.

The first Messerschmitt made a mess of its approach and banked for another attempt. Distracted by zipping tracers, the pilot misjudged the turn and a wing tip clipped the top of a boulder, sending the aircraft cartwheeling through the trees.

The second aircraft dropped to the attack and killed a number of men and vehicles with a mixture of bombs and bullets.

Low on fuel, the ME109 departed for its base, the pilot shouting into his radio, informing the world that the Allies had attacked Yugoslav soldiers.

Checking his watch, the Yugoslav Captain felt the tension grow.

‘
Blyad! They’re late...the fucking things are...”

The
negative thoughts disappeared as a storm of light and sound engulfed the positions of the 2nd New Zealand Division opposite.

‘
Yes! Now...come on...’

A second wave of explosions added to the mayhem that descended on the border between the Yugoslav and Allied forces in T
rieste, these designed to cause casualties, amongst the curious and brave who would respond to the first bombs.

The NKVD agent had been ordered to bring the two factions into conflict
, and the time bombs had been the first part.

Bringing the stock of the rifle to rest on his cheek, he lined the scope with a suitable target and pulled the trigger.

Up the road, a New Zealand Major died instantly as the bullet transited his head.

A second shot killed the Sergeant who ran to his aid.

The agent lined up the third victim, reasoning that the Allied soldiers would be particularly angry at this kill, as he stroked the trigger and shot the nurse through her neck.

He could hear the desperate, frightened squealing she managed to produce, in spite of her gaping wound. Part of him was appalled as he moved to other targets. Firing more hastily now, his accuracy dropped and only one more kill was confirmed, although each target fell bloodily to the road.

Discarding the rifle, he descended the stairs in time to rally his men, and bring the enemy under a steady fire, noting with satisfaction that few of his soldiers had died when his charges exploded.

Yelling oaths and screaming for vengeance, the NKVD agent exhorted his troops to attack and they responded to the calls from their favourite Captain.

Machine-guns and rifles sent bullets flying up and down the road on which the two units sat, claiming casualties in both uniforms.

The final straw for the Yugoslavs was the messy death of their beloved officer, his upper chest destroyed by a burst of Vickers .303.

They charged and closed, with no mercy in their hearts.

The ME109 had taken some solid hits from ground fire
, and the engine was protesting as oil escaped and temperatures grew.

None the less, the pilot calculated that he would be on the ground at his base in Kranj before the situation grew critical.

His calculations became meaningless as a short burst from some Hispano cannons wrecked the meandering aircraft.

The pilot had
no time to react before the Messerschmitt literally came apart around him, and he fell a thousand feet to his death.

Military personnel on the ground cursed the enemy aircraft and did their best to knock one of the three RAF Spitfires from the sky.

The three aircraft turned and headed westwards, their mission accomplished far more easily than had been anticipated.

Diving for the ground, the three lend-lease aircraft
dropped out of sight before turning northwards and crossing into Soviet-occupied Austria, from whence they had come.

“So, we have a dilemma, Comrade Poboshkin.”

“
Yes, Comrade General.”

The analysis of the destruction of Soviet
19th Army in the Alsace had been inconclusive, in as much as, it had concluded different possibilities.

As was the habit with Soviet thinking, criticism of the system was less favoured than criticism of an individual.
Therefore, the report had led with the prime finding that Agent Leopard had been turned in some way, and had been a willing partner in the disinformation that led to the 19th’s annihilation.

Close behind that came the possibility that Pekunin contrived the Leopard report himself.

The third suggestion was that Allied intelligence services had discovered the plan, and spread their own maskirovka, fooling Agent Leopard into submitting the misleading report.

Nazarbayeva herself had some doubts over the deaths of Knocke
’s family, and these surfaced in her reasoning as she started to favour the third on the list.

Poboshkin had a different view.

“If he is our agent, why did he not warn us of the French attack, Comrade General? Such an operation could not have been planned without his knowledge. ‘Amethyst' managed it, so why not ‘Leopard’? The lack of a report has to indicate that he's, at best, inept... and, at worst, a turned man.”

Often Tatiana had observed hard decisions being made by her former boss
, but now she was the one who had to decide.

Poboshkin pressed further.

“Comrade General, remember we have the records of one personal meeting between Pekunin and ‘Leopard’. Again, that implicates the agent surely?”

Nazarbayeva did not add to that part of the conversation.

Instead, she moved to decision making.

“
Whatever is the truth here doesn’t matter, Comrade Poboshkin. His reports are not trusted, and the agent is now a liability. If he is turned, he can betray his network. The decision is easy, as we must protect our assets in place.”

As she spoke, Nazarbayeva wrote out the formal order. It was the first time she wrote a document tantamount to a death warrant
, and she hoped above hope it would be her last.

In war, there are no unwounded soldiers.

Jose Narosky

They had come in their hundreds, possibly thousands, and come quietly bringing death and revenge in their hearts.

415th Rifle Division, the sole remaining functioning unit of the disbanded 89th Rifle Corps, had been absorbed into the brand new 1st Motorised Army and found its tried and trusted skills required, as a fresh fall of snow blanketed the battlefields of Alsace.

Only two regiments, the 1323rd and 1326th, remained, one each targeted on opening the way for the motorised divisions recently released from Stavka reserve, and now tasked with crushing the French attacks.

Spectrum Black had attracted not only the new motorised troops, but also the 6th Guards Cavalry Corps from 2nd Red Banner reserve, as well as the entire 25th Tank Corps, temporarily assigned from 3rd Guards Army.

The Siberians of the 415th moved through the dark of night, and fell upon the positions of the Legion’s Mountain Battalion.

Those ex-SS legionnaires at
Neuwiller-lès-Saverne were quickly overrun, along with some of Pierce’s rear echelon, some three hundred men dying or falling prisoner in a dozen minutes of frantic activity, silent at first, until the attackers were spotted by those who lived long enough to raise the alarm.

At
La Petite Pierre, the larger part of the Mountain Battalion force had a stroke of luck, as the alarm was raised before the silent killing had progressed too far.

Rettlinger was startled from his snooze by firing near at hand, certainly within his perimeter.

Whilst his body, still recovering from its wounds, was normally stiff and took some while to get organised, the adrenalin flushed into his system and permitted rapid action.

Derbo strode to the door and took a look outside, and was immediately presented with the awful vision of a desperate close-quarter fight rolling around one of his anti-tank gun positions.

He turned back to his staff.

“
Get a warning out that we are being overrun by enemy troops... Norbert at Neuwiller first... then Corps... no... General Pierce’s headquarters. You,” he pointed at three of his young officers, “Follow me!”

The situation at the 75mm
PAK position was clearly being resolved in the Legion’s favour, but another pressing issue presented itself.

Two of his Legionnaires were shot down as they ran from a house on the edge of the position, the windows of the building suddenly alive with muzzles spitting bullets.

Derbo dropped down beside a pair of soldiers operating an MG42, set up to defend the headquarters.

“
Ackerman... that building there... keep it under fire.”

The gunner followed Rettlinger
’s arm motion and pulled the weapon over in a small arc.

Quickly making a decision, Derbo continued.

“Watch for our counter-attack... from the left there.”

The snow-covered barn seemed perfect cover to concentrate an attack force. The blown snow had also formed a white wall high enough for the Legionnaires to get close at the run
, and without having to crouch.

“
Understood, Sturmbannfuhrer.”

The
ex-SS soldiers always seemed to slip back into their former rank structure during moments of stress.