Security solutions, p.30
Security Solutions, page 30
“How?”
“An explosion. We think.”
“Flashy,” Ditmar agreed.
“But where?”
“Not where he has to go up against the best,” Otto stated. “Not right next to Grantville, not right by Jena where there are lots of MPs. Not in Saxon County, either. That leaves north of Jena or south of Jena. North would cut railroad shipment of supplies from Erfurt, while south would sever Grantville from the rest of the railroad. Barbara says he will go south.”
“Because Sprunck is a show-off?” Stefan asked. “Seems kind of thin.”
“Und Casimir Wesner works, in part, for Duke Phillip of Saxe-Altenburg,” Neustatter added.
“Oh. This is Saxe-Altenburg,” Stefan acknowledged. “Not Reuss at all. But it is a long front for the eight of us.”
“Und we are almost to Kahla. It is big enough to have taverns and blonde barmaids who are Sprunck’s preferred target.” Neustatter shrugged. “We are playing the odds, and they are not good. But we have a profiler, a forensics investigator, and the eight of us, who are not listed as being on active duty this week.”
“We are getting paid, are we not?”
“Oh, we are getting paid. It is just the books say we are on duty next week. Someone has been altering orders, and that is a game two can play.”
“Neustatter!” Hjalmar exclaimed. “Sprunck is going to hit the Monday train to Magdeburg!”
“How do you know?”
“Because Astrid is in command of the train guard—und he knows she sent Bretagne to surround Schlinck’s headquarters.”
Neustatter touched his heels to his horse. So did the others.
* * *
Neustatter reined in at the city gate. A member of the watch approached.
“National Guard?” He looked them over. “You are not MPs. What are you doing?”
“We are supposed to find a horse thief,” Neustatter replied. “I know, I know. General Torstensson is about to enter Saxony, which is right over there”—he pointed southeast—“and we are chasing down a mere thief. He’s short, always wears a hat and a cloak, dark beard, thin face, has an eye for the ladies, especially young blonde ones.”
“Well, this might be your lucky day,” the watchman said. “I saw someone like that . . . oh, must be some months back. He had another man with him who returned yesterday. Come to think of it, he said he would stay at The Red Duck. One of the barmaids is blonde. Johanna. Maybe Hans and I should come with you.”
Neustatter cocked his head in consideration. “Ja, sure. We could use the help.”
Minutes later, the NESS agents rode up to The Red Duck.
“Hjalmar, Otto, watch the horses. And maybe the windows,” Neustatter directed. “Stefan, Jakob, back door.”
Ditmar and Karl entered first, both crossing the common room toward the door at the back. Each held his rifle in one hand, not quite at the low ready, but still able to snap up into a firing position in an instant. Neustatter came in with the two watchmen once they were about halfway there.
Nobody bolted from the common room, although they did draw plenty of attention.
“Wilhelm!” one of the watch called. “We are looking for someone.”
The tavern keeper appeared. He kept wiping his hands on his apron. “I had nothing to do with it!”
Neustatter laughed. “Nothing to do with what?”
“None of it!”
All trace of laughter left Neustatter’s voice. “None of what?”
Wilhelm looked frightened. Very frightened.
Neustatter scanned the room and spotted the serving girl trying to look unobtrusive in one corner. She was blonde.
“Are you Johanna?”
She cringed.
“I am looking for someone, and I think you may have seen him.” Neustatter rattled off the description of Tobias Sprunck.
Johanna paled.
“When was the last time you saw him?”
Johanna’s mouth moved, but no words came out.
“Breathe,” Neustatter told her. “Take a breath and tell me when you last saw him.”
“Months ago, mein Herr!”
“He had another man with him, did he not?”
Johanna nodded.
“Have you seen the other man since then?”
Her eyes cut toward a door. The one to the guest rooms, Neustatter suspected.
“Is he up there now?”
Another nod.
“Which room?”
“The second one.”
“Wolfram, stay here.” Neustatter motioned to Ditmar and Karl.
The three of them and the watchman hurried up the stairs. In minutes, they were back. Neustatter and the watchman crossed the room to where Wilhelm and Johanna stood.
“He is not in. Do you know where he went?”
They both shook their heads.
“Has he ever mentioned the railroad?”
“Nein,” Wilhelm answered.
“Nein—but the other man did,” Johanna said.
“He paid far too much attention to Johanna,” Wilhelm growled.
“Did he give you anything?”
Her mouth flew open. “Ja, he did. Just a small thing.”
“But it draws the eye. Shiny, ja?”
“How could you possibly know that?” Wilhelm demanded. “It is a copper candlestick. But, him? He was always so meek around the watch.”
“Ja,” Neustatter agreed. “I know he is, I know why, and I know where he acquired the candlestick. Johanna, this is very important. What did he say about the railroad?”
“Th-there is a place north of Kahla where a log wall holds up the railroad. He said it is a very pretty place, and he wanted to walk out with me there, but he said railroads are always a little dangerous.”
“I put a stop to it as soon as I heard about it,” Wilhelm rumbled.
“Where is this spot?” Neustatter asked.
“It has to be the Forellenbach,” the innkeeper replied. “There’s a log retaining wall and a bridge. I am in more danger of tripping down the stairs than anything happening there.”
Neustatter’s words were grim. “Not if he has explosives. How far is the Forellenbach?”
“An hour’s walk, maybe a bit more.”
“Three miles. Danke.” Neustatter turned to the watchman. “Station men to detain him if he returns, bitte. I need you to go with two of my men to the railroad station.”
“It is not a railroad station, just a hut where Old Heinrich lives. If someone wants to ride, he puts a metal flag out.”
“Does he have a telegraph?”
“Ja, but he does not use it much.”
“I will send two of my men with you. They will have a message for him to send.”
Neustatter continued giving orders. “Ditmar, round up everyone and borrow a couple lanterns. We need to get to the bridge.” He turned back to Johanna. “Danke, Fräulein. You may have saved a lot of lives tonight. But if you ever see this man Tobias Sprunck again, tell the watch. Have them call Camp Saale. Do not go anywhere with him.”
Neustatter turned and left The Red Duck. “Hjalmar! Otto! Ride for the railroad station. The watch is going to wake Old Heinrich. See that he telegraphs. I want the overnight from Magdeburg held at Jena until the track is inspected from Jena to Schwarza Junction, and I do not want the Monday morning semi-express to leave Schwarza Junction. Make sure Miss Schäubin is informed.”
Minutes later, Neustatter, Ditmar, Karl, Wolfram, Stefan, and Jakob were riding north.
Railroad line north of Kahla
Monday, August 6, 1635
Sometime after midnight, four NESS agents cautiously worked their way toward the bridge. Neustatter had left Ditmar and Wolfram with the horses. Someone had to stay, and he figured it ought to be their medic and their best rifleman. He, Stefan, Karl, and Jakob could handle anything close-in.
“I have not seen anyone,” Jakob reported.
“Neither have I,” Neustatter agreed. “I am going to check under the bridge. If someone is watching, this will start the fight.”
He moved off the railbed toward the Saale River. In places, it sloped away almost immediately. He passed two spots where the slope had been stiffened with logs to prevent erosion.
Neustatter spotted the bridge up ahead. It was only a few yards long; the Forellenbach was tiny. But someone must have been anticipating bigger and heavier trains, for it was made of stone and concrete. Neustatter climbed back up to the tracks.
“Karl, Jakob, off to the left. Stefan, on the right with me. If anything starts, use the railbed for cover.”
Neustatter descended the short slope and eased up to the bridge. It wasn’t high enough to stand upright underneath. Summer had dried up the Forellenbach to not much more than a trickle, but the ground below the bridge was not truly dry. Neustatter crouched down and picked his way around the worst of the mud.
He checked the base of the bridge. He crawled up under each end where it met the banks. Nothing. He checked for loose earth. There wasn’t any.
A whistle caught his attention. Neustatter scrambled out from underneath the bridge.
“Horses,” Stefan told him.
Neustatter listened.
“Two, do you think?”
“Ja, two or three.”
“There.” Stefan pointed. Right about where Ditmar and Wolfram should be, a lantern was waving up and down.
“Ja or gut,” Neustatter surmised.
A couple minutes later, they heard a faint “Martin!”
“Katie!” Neustatter called back.
Ditmar appeared moments later. “Neustatter, Hjalmar and Otto and the watch are here. Pull everyone back.”
“Oh?” Neustatter gestured for Stefan to follow Ditmar and then located Karl and Jakob.
Once everyone had assembled, Hjalmar spoke.
“Old Heinrich sent the telegraph messages, and both Grantville and Jena acknowledged. Sergeant Hudson wants to know what is going on.”
“Don’t we all,” Neustatter muttered. “The bridge has not been mined or wired.”
“I know. It is the wrong place. There is a second log wall a mile north of here.”
“How far was this man going to walk out with Johanna?” wondered the watchman.
“As far as it took to get her alone.” Neustatter shook his head. “What do we know about the place where this other wall is?”
“Old Heinrich said you can see it from Olknitz. That’s a village on the other side of the river.”
“Oh.” Neustatter shook his head. “Makes sense. Miss Kellarmännin said Sprunck wants to show he is smarter than the men he feels inadequate to. Given a choice, he would not direct his man to mine a bridge where no one could see the train derail.” Neustatter stopped, lost in thought for a few moments. “The cleverest way to blow up a bridge is not with the biggest explosion. It is to derail the train with the smallest explosion. It is how Sprunck thinks—we think.”
Jakob shook his head. “If you say so.”
Neustatter turned to the watchman. “Do you know where this other log wall is?”
“Not exactly, but I know where Olknitz is. The river makes a gentle curve to the right. A bit further on, there is a sharp curve to the left, almost a corner.”
“The railroad cuts the corner there, ja?” Neustatter asked. “It will be before the railroad turns away from the river.”
An hour and a half later, seven of them were crouched on the west side of the railbed. Otto and Stefan had the horses, a good quarter mile back.
“That is surely a person,” the watchman stated. “Und I think he is shoveling.”
“Ja,” Neustatter agreed. “We need to close in. He would see us coming.”
“He is not watching the river,” Ditmar said. “I can get behind him.”
“How?” Stefan asked.
“Swim.”
“We can all splash around in a pond, but the Saale is a lot bigger. It has a current. Did you suddenly learn how to swim?” Stefan asked.
Neustatter pursed his lips. Laughing would alert the men digging by the tracks. “Your young lady.”
Ditmar frowned. “Has Friedrich been talking?”
“Nein,” Neustatter said. “But I did notice Miss Boekhorst was wearing a swimsuit at the Fourth of July concert.”
“You and everyone else,” Ditmar grumbled.
“No worse than many a Grantville dress,” Jakob said.
“Fashion later,” Neustatter directed. “Since we did not bring any lifeguards—Ditmar, can you take him down?”
“Ja.”
“Stefan, Hjalmar, long-range cover. Karl, Jakob, and I will rush in after Ditmar tackles him. Otto, Wolfram, you come in next, and keep your eyes open for anyone else out here.”
* * *
Ditmar removed his boots and shirt and cautiously waded into the Saale River. The August night was warm. He’d heard the up-time lifeguards say the hottest days of the year were barely warm enough to swim in anything other than a heated pool, but the water felt fine to him. He was more worried about splashes alerting the Sprunck’s man. The crawl stroke was out. He pushed off the bottom in what was more or less breaststroke. His technique was sloppy, but Ditmar was not concerned with disqualification in one of the up-timers’ races. He glided through the water, and the saboteur at the railroad tracks showed no awareness of his presence.
Ditmar got far enough from shore to pick up a bit of a current. It was minor, but the pool hadn’t had one, and he found it took more effort to maneuver back toward shore than he’d expected. He suspected any of the lifeguards could have done so quite easily, but swimming—as opposed to splash-around-and-don’t-drown—was new to him. Which was a sorry state of affairs for someone who was part Danish and might have Viking ancestors.
But he was approaching shore now. Ditmar tried to stand and hit bottom. He waded the rest of the way, slowly coming up out of the water. The saboteur was intent on his work at the far end of the log wall. Ditmar stepped onto the river bank and cautiously made his way up the grassy part of the slope.
Five yards. Still no sign the saboteur knew he was there. The rest was gravel. Ditmar decided he’d go left if the man spun around. Four yards. A pebble skittered. Ditmar charged.
The man jumped up, spinning to his right. Ditmar took his third step and dove.
His right shoulder slammed into the man’s chest just below his right arm. He fell backward. Ditmar landed atop him. The man swung something in his left hand. Ditmar blocked, forearm to forearm. He got a knee on the man’s right bicep, swung a left hook at his head.
The saboteur swung the metal tool in his left hand again. Ditmar made the same clumsy block. The man tried to throw him off. Ditmar grabbed the man’s collar with his left hand. He punched him in the face with his right.
The man kept trying to scoot to his left and almost broke free. He hit Ditmar in the upper arm a couple times with the metal tool. Ditmar punched him in the face again.
Ditmar heard steps. Neustatter dove onto the man, both hands going for the weapon in his left hand.
Ditmar went for the only target left and dropped a punch into the man’s gut. He heard a whoof of breath. Then Karl and Jakob piled in. Seconds later, they had the saboteur’s arms and legs pinned to the ground.
“Stopp!” Neustatter ordered. “You are captured.”
Ditmar looked at his boss. Neustatter normally didn’t state the obvious.
“Green leaves.” Neustatter pointed at the branch woven into the man’s cloak. “Saxon Army, ja?”
The man said nothing.
“Here is how this works. By wearing that branch, you are claiming to be part of an army, so this act of sabotage we will get to in a few minutes is a legitimate act of war. Stupid, and likely to anger many in the USE, but legal. In return, you give us your name, rank, and serial number if John George has gotten around to those.”
The man looked back at him, eyes wide and mouth hanging open.
“The next thing we do is figure out what you have done here and save the train,” Neustatter continued. “Will you tell us?”
The man said nothing.
“I need a lantern over here,” Neustatter said. “Not too close. We do not know what sort of sabotage this is. Yet.”
Stefan held up a lantern several feet away. Light fell across the tracks. Neustatter squatted down to look at what the Saxon had been doing.
“Digging . . . wires . . . and something on the tracks themselves.” Neustatter looked up. “Karl?”
Karl dropped down on his knees beside Neustatter.
“Get back, Neustatter.” Karl pointed toward south toward Kahla. “The rest of you, a hundred yards over there, inland of the railroad. Do not touch the rails.”
Neustatter scooted backward, down over the edge of the slope. Karl did the same.
“What do you see, Karl?”
“The crudest electrical bomb ever. This U-shaped piece of sheet metal is mounted on tight hinges. The hinges are on those two boards on either side of the track. The train will knock the sheet metal flat—break it over the track, I expect. Do you see the wire on the ground?”
“Ja.”
“He was going to tie the end of the wire to the metal flange on one side of the sheet metal. Und see where the other wire goes? Right to the track itself. As soon as the flange comes down, the circuit is closed. Electricity flows through the wire. I am confident we will find a blasting cap and probably dynamite.”
“I read something like this in a Western,” Neustatter said. “He will have buried enough explosives under the tracks to blow out one end of the log wall holding up the slope and separate the tracks. The engine might make it across, but the first passenger car would be caught in the blast and derail.”
“Was he going to bomb the southbound?” Karl asked. “The Sunday overnight would get here before Astrid’s northbound.”
“Let’s ask.” Neustatter stood and called out. “Bring him over here!”
Everyone closed in.
“Kneel and cross your ankles,” Neustatter instructed. “The rest of you, back off again.”
