The last enemy, p.23
The Last Enemy, page 23
He and the girl strolled to the bridge where they met a furious Colonel Lawson.
“You’ve done it now. Killed a man we’ve been desperate to get our hands on. A man who could’ve changed history.”
“He was about to get away with that device loaded on the half-track.”
Lawson reddened and shook his head in irritation, but eventually he calmed.
“Maybe you’re right. If he’d detonated the bomb close to our troops, God help us.” He looked for Neuberg.
“Doctor, can you check that thing and make sure it’s not about to go off?”
“Of course.”
He ran onto the bridge and spent some time opening inspection hatches, flicking switches, and carrying out some kind of a check. When he got the readings, he looked puzzled. He rotated a wheel to unlock a heavy steel inspection hatch and swung it open. He peered cautiously inside, chuckled to himself, and looked around at the waiting men.
“It’s quite safe. There’s no possibility of a detonation.”
Lawson looked worried. “You’re quite sure?”
“I’m very sure. You may recall I mentioned they were short of the most essential component, uranium-235. It seems they failed to source further supplies, so to get it finished, they filled it with something different. Like they did with the V2 warheads. Concrete.”
“Concrete?” Lawson echoed.
“Concrete. They were under constant pressure to finish the project, and when the end was coming, and they knew there was no way they could finish it, they used concrete instead of uranium to appease Berlin.”
“I’ll be damned,” he murmured to himself. He turned to look for Murphy. “Lieutenant, what…”
He was lying on the ground with Clemence beside him, his body twitching and jerking. “Colonel, he needs urgent medical help. He’s having a seizure.”
“Sergeant Rooker, our people can’t be far away. We need a man to run ahead and get back here on the double with a doctor.”
He was already shouting the order to Ron Lucas, who took off like a hare. The rest remained with Murphy to guard him and wait until help arrived. Clemence stayed kneeling at his side, her lips moving in what appeared to be a silent prayer. If a doctor didn’t arrive soon, divine help would be all he had left.
* * *
He awoke lying on a cot inside a building he didn’t recognize. He knew it was a hospital because several nurses were moving around, attending to other men lying on their cots. He lifted his head and immediately dropped it back to the pillow like he’d been clubbed with an iron bar. A nurse saw him move and called for a medic. A guy in a white coat bustled in and looked him over.
“Can you hear me, Lieutenant Murphy?”
He heard him, loud and clear. “Sure, I can. How did I get here?”
“They sent a corpsman who called for a field ambulance when he saw how bad you were. They brought you here. This is a military hospital in Metz.”
“Uh-huh.” He knew it’d happened several hours ago, “How long have I been here?”
“Three weeks and a couple of days.”
“Three weeks! I need to get back.”
He started to rise, but the doctor pushed him back down. “Relax, you don’t need to go anywhere.”
“Doctor, you don’t understand. My platoon is still fighting.”
“Not anymore. Adolf Hitler committed suicide at the end of April. Today is May 9, and our people insisted upon an unconditional surrender. It was signed at Reims on May 7, to take effect at midnight May 8–9. It’s finished. Over, period.”
He couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. After all the fighting, the bombing, the destruction, the deaths, it had ended, and he hadn’t even been conscious to learn about it. “Wait a minute, what about Japan?”
He frowned. “They’re still fighting, and there’s talk of moving some units to the Far East. Your platoon may go out there, but not you.”
“I have to get back to them.”
“Not anymore, you don’t. You’re medically discharged. Technically, you’re no longer a serving soldier. As soon as we can arrange transport, you’re going home. Congratulations, Lieutenant Murphy. For you, the war is over.”
The doctor left, and he lay back on his cot. Considering what he’d just heard. He hadn’t got his mind around it when Lawson arrived with Clemence, still garbed in the uniform of the Free French.
She was ecstatic. “Jack, they say you’ll make a full recovery, so we can do all the things we planned. Isn’t that fantastic?”
“I guess so. Sorry, I haven’t been awake for long. This is all new to me. It’s hit me like a whirlwind. But, yeah, whatever.” He looked at Lawson. “Colonel, I’m sorry about killing Richter. I figured I didn’t have a choice.”
He smiled. “As it happens, his death wasn’t that important. Konrad Neuberg retrieved his notebook, and it has everything in it necessary to complete a fully operational device. The moment we realized what we had, they sent a military escort to take him and his notebook to the nearest airfield and put him on a plane to the States. They’re working on a similar project somewhere out in New Mexico, and they say his knowledge will make a significant contribution to whatever it is they’re doing. The last I heard, he arrived safe, and they put him straight to work. If the Japs refuse to surrender, the plan is to drop at least one device over a major city to persuade them to think again.”
“Did you say New Mexico?”
“I shouldn’t have told you, top secret. The less anybody knows, apart from a select few, the better. I understand even the United States President doesn’t know.”
“So, it really is over? We can get on with our lives.”
“Yes. And no.”
He looked at Clemence. “If you don’t mind, I can smell coffee brewing. Would you mind fetching a cup for each of us?”
“With pleasure.” She was buoyed up, riding on a high. The life they’d planned together was about to become a reality. She left the room, and he looked at Lawson.
“What did that mean, and no?”
“The guy you killed wasn’t the only physicist who worked on the bomb. The Russians grabbed some of them, and we got our hands on a few more, but one man slipped away. We need to find him.”
“No. I’ve had enough, Colonel.”
It was like he hadn’t heard. “Ike’s headquarters has authorized me to offer you an immediate promotion if you take it on. You’d become Captain Murphy.”
“Why me?”
“Because you did well with this mission, and you have a proven track record of getting the job done. They want the best, and that’s you.”
“No. Not on your life. I’m done with all that.”
He nodded as if he’d expected the response. “I told them you wouldn’t go for it, and they said I could increase the offer. Think about it. ‘Major Murphy.’ But don’t take too long.”
“She’d go crazy.”
“Probably.”
He opened his mouth about to repeat the ‘no.’ But somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to say it.
Eric Meyer, The Last Enemy
