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Urotsukidoji - Overfiend ‘44: The Hell Portal.	By : Nickamano Category: +S to Z > Urotsuki-doji Views: 1508 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Neither Urotsukidoji or any related materials are owned by me. This was created for entertainment purposes only, and I am not profiting financially from the creation of this story.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
Chapter 13.
The machine started to make sense, at least for the two Jyujin, when they saw it in action.
Munhihausen, in place at his control booth had slotted the artefact into its bowl-shaped socket and then started flicking switches, turning knobs and pressure wheels, adjusting valves whenever he decided a pressure readout was not to his specification. Cathode-ray tubes glowed, the artefact glowed blue. Finally, after confirming his readings, he reached across and drew down a large lever to the left of the main control console.
There was a whir of abruptly moving machinery and the observers spotted movement behind the girl attached to the wheel-spoke. Pistons connecting her crab-claw manacles to the contraption behind her drew her backward, spreading her thighs wider and arching her spine.
And then a device unfurled from the underside of the contraption, a metallic limb which slid smoothly forward, positioning itself directly between and beneath the blonde's youthfully taut buttocks. It was like a cocked arm, double jointed and highly polished. And at the tip of the limb was a phallic shaped manipulator, essentially a dildo. The shaft was at least ten inches in length, Almost as thick as the girl’s slender wrist. The central third of the shaft appeared coiled like a shock-absorber or maybe ribbed, it was impossible to determine from the distance. The decidedly phallic tip was smoothly moulded into a perfect representation of a humanoid crown, flared mushroom shaped ridge, thick rounded bulbous tip.
The gleaming, apparently well lubricated chrome cock shaft levered down and then forward, positioning itself just under the teenage girl’s bared vagina. The observers distinctly saw the girl give a shudder, it visibly passed through her body from her shoulders down, as her vagina was apparently opened up. And even from their high-up vantage point they could easily discern the whirring and clicks of the mechanism completing its positioning of the metal cock between the teenager’s thighs.
Segen could almost feel for herself, the fat girth of that icy cold and steel-hard bulbous cock head touching her lips and invariably pressing forward.
They could do nothing but stand there, leaning over the lip of the theatre box and watch as the dildo, with mechanised precision, swung upwards in a smooth arc and perfectly penetrated the girl’s vagina, pressing on into her body until it was buried as deep as possible.
Again, Segen could almost feel it herself, stretching her inner walls, that ice-cold oily textured shaft invading her intimately, as deep as she could take.
And then the pistons connecting her to the ‘wheel-spoke’ started to work, their own well-oiled gyrations initiating, and the phallus began a slow and smooth back and forth, insertion and retraction, almost the whole length. Segen pictured the retraction only terminating when that broad mushroom ridge splayed her lips, threatening to pop out. Then there would be a pause before the insertion program took over, pushing back inside, deeper and deeper until stretched to over-filling the girl arched up, as though trying to pull herself forward and off the raping machine.
The apex of each thrust had the girl’s head jerked back skyward, and in that moment, they could see her eyes screwed shut and her lips pulled back from gritted teeth. And then as the machine coiled its power and the almost foot long, three-inch-wide metal phallus retracted before driving itself into her again.
Fully cognizant, the agony cutting through the assumed drug induced funk, the girl squealed at the apex of each searing penetration of the bloated, heavy, metal phallus pressing firmly into her.
The thrusting pace picked up almost at once, deep and steady and continual. A pre-set rhythm, at just over one thrust every second. The weight and hard, solid feel of the metal dildo more than likely stretching and bloating the girl’s vaginal channel. To the teenager, it might as well have been a fist and forearm instead of a cold metal dildo being punched into her orifice over and over, a never-ending pulsing beat - in and out, in and out.
After thirty seconds or so the thrusts became harsher, the piston attachments that connected the harness to the main apparatus, jerking her back harder and faster as the dildo continued to hammer home, no doubt thumping firmly against her cervix.
And with each contact of phallic crown with her core, Segen recognised from the girl’s frantic reaction, that there was a short yet harsh electric shock that stabbed straight into her genitals, savaging her womb as well as the surrounding flesh. It would doubtless force sexual juices to flow involuntarily. The first cruel zap loosened the girl’s bladder and golden piss blasted the machinery beneath her, but soon enough her bladder’s supply was exhausted.
The girl gave a reverberating extension to the cry that was snatched from her with each of the mechanical thrusts. She couldn't help herself. And the silent, shocked observers could see the spittle fly through her gritted teeth with every electric shock, though the painful jolts added to the precise and constant phallic pounding, caused an unwanted yet headier sexual symptom to quickly build.
In seconds, juices were flowing freely, coating the cold metal pounding in and out of her, sizzling hotly and steaming with each short jolt of electrical current. Segen knew the sensations would mix and mingle and instigate little lightning flashes of unwanted sexual pleasure within the girl’s primed body.
After a minute, the observers spotted large and long hypodermic needles sliding forward. The needles, some of which appeared to be up to six inches in length, slid out from recesses in the contraption and penetrated the bare flesh of the girl’s upper back and the base of her spine. She screamed even more harshly as the needles penetrated her. Each needle was attached to a clear tube and after another second, her bodily fluids began to flow, though in slow minuscule amounts at first.
The hypodermics appeared to be collecting blood plasma, spinal fluid and other liquids. It was also safe to assume that the metal phallus would have small channels within it that would collect the free-flowing secreted sexual lubrication fluids, now in overdrive, dribbling just about continually from her filled and over-worked pussy.
And still the thick metal dildo hammered in and out. Faster now, maybe two thrusts a second. And the girl cried and whimpered to each and every one of those harsh, raping thrusts. Though already her energies appeared to be declining.
“I don’t understand the purpose of this… Torture… Is that what it is? Just torture? Some sick experiment?” Bodie whispered, he looked pale and visibly sickened.
“It’s collecting her sexual energies, and amplifying them.” Teufel said simply. “It’ll suck her dry in another minute or two at this rate.”
“What will become of her?” Kahn asked.
“In another minute you’ll see for yourself.”
Plasmafied sexual energy, like arcs of lightning, leaped and danced around the three large glass test tubes forming the trunk of the construction, and a new light eclipsed the soft blue illumination emanating upward from below.
They saw Munhihausen, watching closely, reach across to another control panel and, apparently, turn the accelerator up to full. The girl was instantly being hammered into faster still, six thrusts to the second, at least.
Her juices, her life energy, overflowed, pouring out of her, while her terror and increasing pain kept her body chemicals and her heartrate at their maximum. All of it transformed into life-energy and collected along with her bodily fluids and sexual energy. A physical pleasure that conjured its own power, even if to the girl, the sensation of that pleasure would be utterly eclipsed by her pain and horror, the energy was still evident and building rapidly. Her screams filled the void of the theatre more completely that any opera singer.
And to the observers up above, the girl’s screams all but cancelled out even the loud and fast clunking and slamming noises of the rape-contraption and the ever-increasing electric whine of the collecting technology it was feeding.
The chrome tubes and pipes of the power conduit assembly seemed to be throbbing with activity and their rhythm seemed to be matching in pace, if not in timing, with that of the rape-contraption’s pistons. Arcs of electric-blue plasma leaped and danced freely between gleaming metal surfaces, arcs both the large, thick and deadly and the tiny dainty ones, all leaping about and building with rapidly growing power.
Finally, the powering pistons increased their velocity to a break-neck speed, the movements blurring, the poor girl was buffeted and savaged by the speed of the action. Her arms and legs, her whole body slammed forward and back with a terrible velocity, Segen thought that her bones must be bending, close to breaking, under the immense strain. Her screams a bland cacophony, unable to truly represent the truth of her pleasure-pain experience.
Above and behind her, the glass tubes bubbled now with the collected energy of the teenage victim. It was a small amount, maybe a tenth of the volume of the tubes, yet it began to quiver and glow with a powerful surge of energy, liquid turning into plasma. It resembled the crackling arcs that rippled all around the machine, though now concentrated and focused it seemed to be a deeper colour, heading toward the purple of the spectrum.
The girl was brought to one final, fatal climax and then the mechanism went into one final sudden acceleration, drawing out of the very last of her energies. She was forcibly arched back in her constricting, painful harnesses and was suddenly drained of everything, fluids, sexual pleasure, her very lifeforce, until there was nothing left to take.
Her young, taut flesh shrivelled and cracked, flash-aged into oblivion, muscles withering to nothing. And then in the next instant she was nothing more than a flesh-bag of bones. Dead, grey skin hanging from thin bony limbs.
Her death scream faded and then, still under the extreme pressure from the overdrive piston-powered rape-contraption, her rictus-body came apart, literally exploded in a bloody mess of flesh and gore. The last few ounces of blood exploding out of her shredded flesh in all directions, like a water balloon hitting a pavement.
The pillar-like collection tubes emptied their stored fluids and energies a second later. The plasma was sucked downward, drained from the tube. And then, following a confused second of nothingness, a pillar of that same dancing purple plasma burst into life in mid-air, hovering above the mechanism.
The next instant, and not unlike a sexually enticed vagina, the column swelled and opened like a flower, forming a loose writhing oval in the air. And in the centre of that oval there appeared to be a rent in reality.
And through it, just for a split second, another reality shone through. A hellish landscape of rock and fire, bubbling magma and amorphous beings - writhing silhouettes, unlike anything anyone had seen before. Other than the two Jyujin of course, they had been in and out of the demon Realm many times before.
“Oh… Hah! No. We’re not letting them do that. It’d be the end of this world. War would be the least of their problems.” Teufel laughed, turning to his little sister. “Can you imagine?!”
“All too well.” She smiled back ruefully, shaking her head.
“What did we just see... What was that?” Shaw asked, eyes as wide as his agape mouth.
“A gateway… To hell…” Kahn replied.
None of them had moved, they were all still staring down at the now almost pitch dark of the ground level of the theatre. The Jyujin siblings exchanged looks.
“We have to blow this place. We have to blow this place to kingdom come. Tonight.” Kahn concluded.
<><><>
“So, how are we doing this?” Carson asked. “Do we use our guns? The others are still out there. If we make too much noise, we could be putting them all at risk.”
“Theirs is a potential risk, the women’s is very real and is happening right now. If we can find them and get then back quietly, we will, but if not… Either way we’re getting them back.” Clonek put in.
“Understood.” Carson replied, then turned to Brooks, Clay and Foster.
“You two will stand out too easily and Foster, you’ll just slow us down with those busted ribs, so you’re all gonna stay put and keep this room secure. We’ll need at least one person here anyway for when the others get back. And we don’t know how long this is going to take, so I want you guys on those Forty-Twos covering the main entrances.”
“Right Sarge.” Clay replied.
Brooks was about to protest but Carson cut him off.
“Save it Brooks. I know what I asked you, and I know you wanna play the knight-in-shining-armour, but the Poles all speak German and I’m white, so we should be able to wander around without getting hassled. We have a better chance of success without you.”
“Sergeant. Are you ready? We’re heading out.” Piszczek said.
“Yeah, I’m ready.”
“Good luck.” Brooks called out as he watched the five-strong team exit the double doors to the vestibule.
<><><>
Zofia was trying to hold onto her anger and to use it to maintain some control of her emotions, to remain calm in this most dire of situations. She had been in situations not a long way from this before. Unfortunately, this particular fate was almost exactly the same horror-fantasy that had plagued her since the day the Germans had marched into her country. Being captured, tied to a bed and repeatedly raped. Continual sexual enslavement until she was worn out, where she would be cast aside onto the street to die, or just shot.
She had seen it happen to women she had known from her home town, and she had heard such terrifying stories from fathers, brothers, husbands who she had fought alongside. And her fears of such a fate had plagued her nightmares for years now.
The only mercy, and it was not really a mercy at all, was that she wasn’t alone. Her friend and in some ways mentor, Kasia was with her.
They had been marched upstairs from the vestibule, to the right and along the corridor to the fourth door. Zofia had been trying her hardest to memorize their movements, should she manage to find a way to escape, so she could run back to the staging area room and hopefully, the safety of her comrades. So, it was upstairs - first corridor, fourth bedroom, where she was marched inside alongside her sister-at-arms. There they were stripped down to their underwear and thrown onto the two side-by-side single beds, then set upon immediately by the officer and his three men. Plus, they expected the other three would rendezvous and join them once they had finished dealing with poor Brooks.
Zofia managed to look across to the other bed where Kasia had been pinned down. She was getting it a lot harder than Zofia was, and the girl’s heart went out to her, alongside the feelings of relief that she wasn’t the one being made to take on three rampant, horny monsters at once. She only had the officer to contend with.

Almost surprising, was that so far there had been no questions asked, no interrogation, only rape. Another example of the German military happily taking whatever they like from the vanquished folk of the countries they conquer. Nothing new, nothing surprising. From what they had heard, the German military had raped and murdered their way through just about every village, town and country throughout their march across Europe. Of course, it was a timeless normality of war, though rarely had there been so many soldiers marching across Europe before – and therefore so many potential victims.
Lying on her back, her hands made to grip the wrought iron bars of the bedstead as the officer rutted away on top of her while he disgustingly drooled and sweated over her shuddering naked breasts, Zofia turned her head to the left and looked over at Kasia. As usual, the officer had taken first pick and the leftovers had been tossed to his men. However, in this instance Kasia was ‘the leftovers’ and the three men were far too impatient to take turns. Of course, when poor Brooks’ execution had been completed, which Zofia was surprised that she hadn’t already heard the rifle shots, there would be up to seven men wanting to have fun. So maybe the reason the officer was rutting her so hard and fast is that he wanted to be done with his own pleasure so he could hand her over to the other three, and then Zofia would be sharing in Kasia’s misery and humiliation precisely.
Kasia was sandwiched flat on her back between the three half-naked soldiers. A big hefty guy was underneath her and had her trapped in a full-nelson headlock, something Bodie had once showed her - one of his patronising tips on how to subdue a man from behind. As though she hadn’t done just that with her knife many times over, certainly more times than Bodie had done. Though he had liked to show off, to try and impress her. She had appreciated his seduction efforts at first, showing her attention and revealing just how attracted he was too her. It was flattering and made her feel like a woman and not just some weapon used to kill hated Germans.
The headlock trapped and forced Kasia’s arms out away from her body, so she was utterly unable to defend herself from the man standing at the side of the bed with his hands on her throat and his cock in her mouth. The only thing she could do would be to chew through that cock, but she wasn’t that foolish. The soldier had his bayonet jammed in the plaster of the wall above the bedstead within easy reach, she had seen him deliberately put it there was a silent warning. If it was just the two of them then maybe a suicidal assault like biting off an enemy’s cock might prove effective, cutting short her own torture and hopefully taking one of them with her.
However, they were not alone and while Piszczek and her countrymen and certainly, as far as Zofia was concerned, Teufel and his crazy gorgeous sister were nearby, there was hope for rescue. So, the women took the rape-torture and bided their time, feeding on hope.
While the man gripping Kasia about the neck sawed his erection in and out of her mouth and throat, half drowning her in her own saliva by the sounds of her spluttering and gagging, the third private was atop her and rutting away in parallel to the officer on top of Zofia.
The girl looked at her older friend, who was only really visible from her perspective as flailing limbs, a side of smooth creamy skin and an animatedly shuddering breast, and wondered if the two rapists between her legs were sharing one hole or using both.
To try and pull herself away from her own relatively small-scale misery, compared to what Kasia was being made to suffer, Zofia attempted to withdraw into herself and to bring up thoughts of Teufel or even Bodie, and their lovemaking. Teufel was fun, he was younger than her and so full of energy and stamina and, surprisingly with his meagre years, skill. The sex was amazing and neither of them seemed to be able to get enough of the other. In more peaceful times she could easily envision them staying in bed and screwing for days on end, with little pauses for bathing and eating. Though during this despicable war, they were only able to snatch opportunities here and there.
In a way, it had been the same with Bodie to begin with. The reality of the need to search out little snippets of pleasure to counterbalance in the daily horrors and constant fear for her life. And finding that in sex was indescribable, like finding pearls in shit. And did a lot to help her come to terms with the horrible things she had to do on a daily basis.
Plus, the freedom of being away from the constraints of cultural conduct and morality was equally liberating in itself. Being able to do what came naturally without being labelled a whore, or a sinner. The problem with Bodie was that he became possessive and demanding and trying to control her. It became a serious and tense affair - not just the fun, stress-relieving entertainment she needed it to be.
And then Teufel had appeared and this electric spark between them had been palpable and she had felt herself drawn to him. He had looked to her like a symbol of the freedom and stress-relieving fun she required without all the additional frustrations, expressions of jealousy and demands that Bodie had been putting on her. Well, his jealousy was still evident, more than ever in fact. Though for once at least, he had a reason for it and he embraced that reason and now looked at her with nothing but hatred and loathing.
She felt bad that she had hurt him, but she could do nothing about it and things with Teufel were so much better, precisely what she needed. The only thing she dreaded was the day he walked away, which she knew would be soon. Though at the same time any of them could be killed or captured at any time. And the thought of a peaceful and good-natured farewell, no matter how painful that would be, was certainly a pleasurable alternative to witnessing another friend and compatriot being murdered, or dying in her arms.
The officer groaned in building pleasure and his thrusting accelerated and he pressed his lips to one of her soft, brownish nipples and sucked hard. Zofia found herself cringing at the thought of his semen spurting imminently into her pussy. If she found herself pregnant at the hands of a German, well, a carefully planned fall down some stairs or Kasia and the use of a coat-hanger would be a blessing, however sinful it would be in the eyes of a God she feared she no longer believed in.

Kasia could do nothing but focus on her breathing, as the German cruelly stabbed repeatedly into her throat, cutting off her airway. She had to stay alive. The others would surely be coming for Zofia and herself. They would have been watching from the staging area through the key hole and, knowing what was about to happen, she had deliberately placed herself within its eyeline to alert them of the trouble. Now all she had to do was to bide her time.
The Nazi’s fat cock in her mouth had a sideways curve to its shaft. She had caught a glimpse of it when he had shoved his uniform trousers down to his knees and hauled his meat out of his underwear. The curve made it harder to take. It pushed naturally toward the inside of her cheek as he thrust forward and bruised the entrance of her throat with the strength of his urgent thrusts, battering her tonsils and uvula and making her gag and bringing more tears to her eyes. Plus, the plentiful overflow of saliva that ran down her upturned face and trickled back into her nostrils played merry hell with her ability to breathe. Plus, it felt awful, vilely tickling her and kept her on the verge of panic. To allay her panic, Kasia focussed on the imminent future.
She knew the door would bang open and men in German uniforms would burst into the room, there would be that ubiquitous sweet second of confusion that they themselves had long since taken advantage of, men looking at other men in friendly or matching uniforms and failing to recognise that it was the enemy until it was upon them, stabbing and garrotting or shooting. And within that blessed second, then man savaging and bruising her throat would be half-turned toward the open door, his body away from his bayonet; which even restrained in this painful full-nelson was within Kasia’s reach. She just needed a second to grab it and pull it from the wall. Even if she had it taken from her or killed before she could use it, still, it would provide an extra moment or two that distracted these fuckers and give her boys the chance they needed. They could at least get Zofia to safety, as she was closer to the door and only had the officer raping her. Lucky little bitch, she thought with affection.
The fat slab of lard beneath her had shoved his cock, a short stubby thing that was however thick around its girth, up her ass without any lubrication. Her anal sphincter muscle had screamed in protest, a white-hot burning pain that had tears to her eyes and colourful Polish oaths to her taut lips. And he went on, using nothing but brute force to pressure his way into her naturally repulsing rectum. It was a protest that she repeated vocally. And that, in a cruel irony, was a big part of the reason the third Nazi son-of-a-whore had shoved his cock into her mouth and down her throat, causing her yet more pain.
And then to make matters worse the third soldier, a little weaselly guy, had climbed on top of her and stuffed his own meat, this one long yet thin, like a stiletto blade, so it didn’t stretch out her walls but continually thumped at her sensitive cervix. She was restricted, pinned down and shackled by hated and passion-fuelled enemy soldiers who were taking her for all they were worth and she hated it, hated the inability to fight back most of all.
However, she told herself not to play her hand too early, that to try to fight back before her boys appeared was foolish and a waste of her life. She just had to bide her time, take the torturous triple abuse in her stride and wait for the right moment. To live through it.
It wouldn’t be the first time. She had lived in this same torture since she had witnessed her young husband and infant son murdered before her eyes, five years earlier. And then had to take all the vile pawing, and putrid thrusting members of an entire platoon of German army troops before they had moved on, leaving her for dead with a bullet in the brain. Fortunately, the still drunk shooter hadn’t aimed well and hadn’t checked on her afterwards.
The bullet had only skinned her hairline, cut a bloody furrow through her flesh. It hadn’t even cracked her skull. Though it had been like being struck by a hammer blow and had left her unconscious on the floor of her bedroom for almost twelve hours. The headache had lasted weeks, but by then she was already out with her husband’s old hunting rifle killing Germans wherever she found them, vanishing into the forests before they could catch up with her. However, her need for revenge was never slaked. Then Clonek had found her and she had been brought into the organised ranks of Piszczek’s cell and she had been taught new ways to kill Germans.
And as she lay there trapped and abused by multiple hands and cocks and, all of a sudden, teeth - on her nipples, chewing and nipping cruelly, Kasia filled her attention with lists and memories of all those delicious methods of bringing death to Nazi’s and the specific times she had used each and every method she had been taught.
Outwardly Kasia choked on the bastard’s cock as he harshly stabbed at the back of her mouth, stretching her constricted throat muscles painfully until the bloated crown popped through into her gullet. Inwardly, she was smiling.
<><><>
The four Poles and single American worked surprisingly well together. Their tactics and methods of covering each other were similar and Carson proved himself more than adequate at reading the Polish method and adapting his own to coincide. To begin with they marched as a squad, with Furman in his Major’s uniform, leading. Once they reached to top of the stairs unnoticed, knowing the women had been forced to the right-side corridor that formed the opening to the eastern annex, they instead turned left. This was due to a trio of German soldiers emerging from a room at the mouth of the left-side corridor and turning in their direction. The rescue team did not want a trio of armed Germans at their backs all the way to finding the room that held the women.
They marched in formation, the Poles having had enough exposure to the German march that they were able to replicate it, while Carson kept himself in the rear and did his best. The trio paused to salute the superior officer and the instant Furman returned the salute, Clonek, Klich and Carson leapt forward with bayonet hilts, fists and in Carson’s case a fast and perfectly placed headbutt. The three went down fast with little more than groans and wheezing and thuds of their bodies hitting the carpeted floor of the landing.
Piszczek immediately ordered them dragged back into the room the came from which was revealed to be a bedroom. They must be working in standard shifts and just be coming on duty. So, after a little consideration the men had bayonets thrust between their ribs, killing each silently, the bodies summarily concealed beneath the makeshift cots that had been hastily dragged into the room.
It wouldn’t take a long time to locate them, but looking for corpses would not be the first assumption an officer would come to. It would be assumed they were late for their shift and a search would be instigated. It would give the men a little time. Though returning to the staircase landing might prove more dangerous once the rescue had been completed. Of course, that bridge would be crossed once they came to it.
Their weapons, three Sturmgewehrs were collected and shouldered by Carson, Klich and Clonek. And then they returned to the upstairs landing and took the right-hand corridor.
They had no way of knowing where the women had been taken, how far down the corridor and to which room specifically, however Zofia and Kasia were both attractive women and it would be no great leap to assume that an interrogation consisting primarily of rape would be the most obvious method the German’s would use. So, the sounds of sexual activity were the clue the team searched for. They listened at doors while two of them kept an eye and an ear on both ends of the corridor.
It didn’t take long for them to find the right room, though again they were discovered halfway down the passageway by another trio of Germans maybe these were the men going off duty that the ones they had already killed were meant to be replacing. They spotted them listening at a door and made smiling casual enquiries about what they were listening out for. At least until they became aware of Furman’s rank and they snapped to attention and begged forgiveness. Furman played the casual officer again and forgave them, then made some comment about being off duty, and made mention of a rumour of females on this floor. They were helpfully pointed to a room down the corridor.
Finally, as the men requested Furman’s permission to turn in for the night, he ordered them to check the room he was standing next to, which had been silent when Clonek had put his ear to it. The men looked confused but couldn’t ignore an order from a superior and opened the door, which was pitch black inside. They entered, closely followed by Carson, Piszczek and Furman himself. This time they were killed quickly with knives and bayonets, it was a little noisier but there didn’t seemed to be anyone else around to hear the gurgling grunts from two as their throats were cut and the hand-muffled groan as the second was gutted. Once assuredly deceased, they dumped the bloody corpses into a large old ornate wardrobe in the corner. Their assault rifles were confiscated and then the five members of the rescue team, now overly armed, headed onward.
<><><>
The Reconnaissance team returned to the staging area room without incident. Segen’s intuition, which she insisted was her sense of smell, was able to ‘sniff out’ whenever soldiers were near-by and which rooms were safe to duck into until the soldiers had passed. Kahn might have disbelieved she was sniffing out obstacles in the literal sense but he couldn’t deny the reality that she had allowed them to travel from one end of the Schloss to the other without being seen once. As far as they knew no one was aware of their presence in the enemy stronghold at all, and he had to concede that at least in this instance it was down to the Japanese girl’s unfathomable skills.
They came back the same way, returning to the staging area via the back stairs. There was only the one hairy moment when paused outside their safe room, Segen halted them.
“Something’s not right. There are only three men in there.”
“Krauts? Have the rest been captured?” Shaw asked in a whisper.
“No, three Americans… No Poles.”
“At least they’re our people…” Kahn said with a sigh of relief.
Teufel shrugged, reaching for the door. But Segen put a hand on his arm.
“Careful brother, they’re on edge… Best knock…” Segen turned to the American Lieutenant. “Kahn, you should do it, they’ll recognise your voice.”
“What if he’s overheard?” Salvatore grunted, catching Segen’s eye. “Quite a lot of Nazi’s around here. If someone hears an American call out…”
Segen shook her head.
“It’s safe for the moment, there’s no one close enough to hear…”
“Okay, fine.” Kahn said, manoeuvring himself to the front and gave three deliberate knocks on the door.
“Hey, it’s us. Hold your fire.”
“Lieutenant?” Came a voice from within, that Kahn recognised as Clay’s.
“Unlock the door, private. Hurry it up.”
“Yessir.”
A moment later the door was swung open and everyone hurried inside, Clay quickly locking the door behind them again.
Kahn looked around at his three remaining men, gave a shrug and then frowned at Clay.
“Report, Private. Where is everyone?”
“Rescue mission, Lieutenant.”
“Go on…”
“The Sergeant gave orders to go and grab another Forty-Two. There was a disagreement with the Poles. Brooks and the two Polish dames snuck out to get the weapon.”
All eyes turned to Brooks, who was looking sheepish and embarrassed, sitting behind the second machine gun that he had mounted on the back of an over-turned armchair and had it pointing at the doors leading out to the vestibule.
“Trying to resolve the conflict, I guess.” Clay carried on, Brooks nodding in confirmation.
“They were caught outside. The Poles rescued Brooks who was lined up ready for a firing squad. They did it quiet and hid the bodies, but the dames were marched off upstairs. Their guys and Sergeant Carson went after them.”
“Jesus-fucking-Christ…” Kahn muttered.
“Where are they now?” Bodie asked, eyes bulging in apparent horror.
“Somewhere upstairs, don’t know exactly. Ain’t been any gunfire so far, though.” Clay replied.
“What do we do?” Bodie asked, looking to Shaw.
“Nothing we can do is there?” Kahn commented. “We don’t know where they are. Besides, the more of us running around this place, the more likely we are to get caught.”
“The Lieutenant’s right. We have our mission and we have to make preparations. They have as much time as it takes us to plan on how to get up to the radio room. If they aren’t back by then…”
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Urotsukidoji - Overfiend ‘44: The Hell Portal.